Life Debt
by HappyAuriga
Summary: Snape has survived the final battle. He does deserve a little gratitude, doesn't he?
1. Chapter 1

**Life Debt**

Harry leant back heavily against the trunk of an apple tree in the Burrow's orchard. From time to time the wind carried voices to his hiding place but most of the time it was very quiet there. With the sinking sun painting the sky in hues of red and orange, the scene even looked peaceful, hadn't it been for the silhouette of Fred's tomb.

It was nothing fancy like Dumbledore's but a simple piece of rock. George and Mr. Weasley had fetched it from the other side of the hill. George said it had been Fred's favourite spot to sit when the twins roamed the woods around their home in more peaceful, safer times.

Harry was brought out of his brooding by soft footfalls.

"Here you are." Ginny sat beside him, leaning against his left arm, resting her head against his shoulder. Her hair smelled of lilies. The girl shared the silence of the place for a few minutes before she straightened. "McGonagall firecalled. He's awake."

Harry nodded. He had asked the headmistress to notify him once Snape was awake. For the past two weeks Harry had prayed to whichever god would listen to him to let the potions master survive the ordeal he had gone through.

When Harry had rushed to the Shrieking Shack after Voldemort's downfall he had found the man barely alive. Luckily the Hogwarts house elves wouldn't let the headmaster die. Five of the little creatures had been fighting for the wizard's life frantically for hours and as soon as Harry had told them that the castle was safe once more, they had taken him to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey finished what the elves had started.

Snape had lost a considerable amount of blood, nearly too much, and hadn't it been for the expertly brewed Bloodreplenishing Potion at hand, he would have died despite the house elves' first aid. Harry thought that the man was going to appreciate being saved by a potion once he was well enough to do so.

"He wants to speak to you," Ginny continued. "McGonagall says tomorrow would be fine."

Harry acknowledged the message with a nod and a chaste kiss pressed to Ginny's forehead. "Thanks."

"I'm glad he's awake," muttered the girl, settling back to the spot at Harry's shoulder. "I want to thank him for saving you."

"For saving us all," Harry corrected her softly. He freed his left arm from under the sweet weight of Ginny and wrapped it around the girl's shoulder.

"Us all," she agreed.

Harry bent down to kiss her again and this time the kiss was all but chaste.

-x-

It was good to be back at Hogwarts. The traces of the battle were still fresh, but here and there first repairs had been performed. In a way, it looked like the castle was a living entity whose wounds were healing little by little.

Harry met a group of Ministry wizards near the Great Hall. They were working to restore the vast room where young witches and wizards had met for their meals for a millennium before it had been damaged in the battle against the darkest of wizards.

One of them spotted Harry and signalled his co-workers. They stopped their spell-casting and the leader of the group, a man in his sixties, walked up to Harry.

"Mr. Potter," he said respectfully and hinted a bow. "We were just about to finish here. Would you like to have a look?"

Actually, Harry would have preferred to go straight to the Hospital Wing, but the expectant expressions on the workers' faces left him no choice. "Why not," he smiled.

"Ambrose Watson," the gaffer introduced himself. "We've restored the windows and pillars, just like they were. It was easy. Everybody has spent seven years at Hogwarts and remembers how they were supposed to look like. We've added a little something though." He led the way to the middle of the room, where a brass plate was placed on the floor.

"This is the spot where Harry James Potter defeated the dark wizard Lord Voldemort to save us all," the plate read.

Harry blushed. "This is too much!" he protested weakly.

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter," Mr. Watson smiled. "We think whatever we do cannot be enough. We were thinking about replacing the statue of Gryffindor with yours, but the headmistress insists you wouldn't want the founder of your house replaced." He looked at Harry hopefully as if expecting him to order Gryffindor be thrown out. When Harry said nothing of that kind he cleared his throat.

"We were just going to reinstall the ceiling." The man looked at his co-workers for backup. "And we were wondering whether you would honour us by..." he hesitated.

"What is it that you want to ask?" Harry looked from one wizard to the other.

"We were wondering, since you are here, whether you would cast the final spell."

"You want me to put the sky on the ceiling?" Harry had no idea how to do that!

"Well, we had no idea you would come," Mr. Watson said apologetically. "We're nearly finished. All it takes is a simple Lumos spell, but we would consider it a great honour."

Harry cleared his throat and drew his wand. "The honour is all mine," he said solemnly. He pointed his wand up at the ceiling. "Lumos!" A small spark of light left the tip of his wand and when it hit the ceiling it set up a myriad of little sparkles, it looked like fireworks. When the sparkling had ceased, the ceiling showed the vivid blue of the summer sky outside, with a small cloud here and there.

The Ministry wizards clapped and admired Harry's handiwork. When a thestral flew across the sky with slow strokes of wings, there was an uproar.

"Unbelievable!" a red bearded man cried.

"That's completely unheard of!" cried another.

"I'm sorry," Harry hurried to apologize, unsure what he had done wrong. "I didn't mean to spoil your work."

"Spoil?" cried Mr. Watson. "The quality of the image depends on the power of the wizard who switches it on. Even Albus Dumbledore wasn't able to put bypassing animals on the ceiling!" In awe, the group watched a robin flutter by.

Embarrassed, Harry took his leave, pointing out that he had an appointment with the headmistress.

McGonagall awaited him by the stone gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. "It seems the castle regards Severus fit enough to fulfil his duties as headmaster," she smiled. "It let me enter his office while he was unconscious, but since yesterday, the beast won't move for me." She motioned Harry to precede her to the hospital wing.

"How is he?" the boy asked.

"Poppy says he's better than she dared hope for in this short time. He's terribly thin and pale, but that's easily understood given his condition when you found him."

Severus Snape was sitting in his hospital bed, several pillows tucked behind him to lean on. The man was, indeed, pale and thin like death himself. The impression of sickness was strengthened by the bandages around his throat. His hair hung in strands and his hands, which were currently holding a copy of the Daily Prophet, were so thin you could see the bones.

McGonagall stopped at the door to the hospital wing. "I'll go and see Poppy," she said softly. "Call if you need anything."

Harry nodded and stepped into the room.

"Good morning, Professor," he said softly.

"Potter," the man on the bed snarled as a greeting. The deep voice Harry had come to fear as a student sounded hoarse, probably as a reminder of Nagini's bites. He motioned Harry closer and pointed at a chair by his bedside.

Harry sat awkwardly. He had hoped for a chance to speak to the man, but now that he was here, he was lost for words. How did you thank a man who had saved you over and over again and finally had been ready to give his own life to save yours?

Under the intense gaze of the potions master, Harry felt like he was eleven again.

"Sir," he started at last, looking up from his hands into the man's dark eyes. "I wanted to thank..." The memory of when he had last looked into Snape's eyes left Harry lost for words. He had been convinced the man was dying then.

"A simple thank you won't do, Potter," snarled Snape.

"What?" Harry piped. Here he was, humbled by what Snape had done for him and the man didn't appreciate his gratitude at all? Instead he was being nasty!

"As I wasn't able to do more than read," Snape shook the newspaper he was holding, "for the past three days, I have a rather accurate image of the public opinion on me."

Harry hung his head. "It's completely unfair," he admitted. "I swear I told them what you did and that you are a hero in this war, but..." he gestured at the newspaper helplessly.

"They suggest I be grateful I don't get the Kiss for killing Albus and remove myself from polite society," Snape finished the sentence. "However," he paused, "this is not acceptable. I don't expect monuments, but is it asked too much to continue my life?"

"No, Sir," Harry agreed solemnly, "that's not asked too much. You deserve their gratitude."

"Well, as they're not ready to leave me in peace, I will have to resort to ... other means. You are aware that you owe me a life debt, Potter, aren't you?"

Harry nodded.

"As much as I hate to do it," Snape didn't look uncomfortable at all, "I have to demand you pay for that debt."

Harry nodded again. He was the heir to the Potter and Black fortunes, he could easily afford to give Snape whatever he considered an appropriate reward. "How much do you want?" he asked.

"How much?" Snape sneered. "You misunderstand me. Money will not buy me social standing. You will do that."

"What?" Harry was confused. "I don't understand."

"What a surprise." Snape shook his newspaper. "You will allow me to adopt you," he then elaborated. "They won't dare treat the father of the Golden Boy like a social outcast." The potions master glared at Harry, daring him to refuse, but Harry was too dumbfounded.

"You want to do what?" he cried at last.

Snape smiled a lopsided smile. "I want to adopt you," he repeated. "You carrying the Snape name will wash it clean of fault. I'd appreciate it of you took care of the legal issues as I'm not really in a condition to do so at the time being." Snape gestured at the Hospital Wing at large.

Harry sat in silence for several minutes while the potions master returned to his reading. From time to time the boy opened his mouth to say something, but no sound would come out.

"You can't be serious!" Harry cried at last.

"I've never been more serious about a thing in my life," Snape informed him, looking up from his newspaper. "Rest assured, should you refuse, I will make it a well known fact that you, Mr. Potter, are an ungrateful brat."

-x-

"Well, part of me understands his reasoning," sighed Mr. Weasley. "They have all but asked his head in the Prophet and we all know the influence that paper has on the public opinion." The balding wizard scratched his head.

"He wants me to give up my father's name and carry his!" Harry cried in protest.

"I've understood that," Mr. Weasley assured the boy. "And I think he's right. They will not dare mess with him once you carry his name."

"But that's cruel," Ron chimed in. The whole Weasley family and Harry were assembled around the kitchen table at the Burrow. "He hates Harry and Harry hates him! How can he expect Harry to go through with that plan?"

"I can understand he feels he has sacrificed enough," mused Molly. "He must be desperate if he asks that of you."

"Hee only wants youu tou carry the name, n`est-ce pas?" said Fleur. "Hee does not want tou really bee part of your life."

Harry's heart sank. Snape hadn't said anything about a real father and son relationship, but what if he wanted that, too?

"I don't think so," Mr. Weasley soothed. "Severus wants to be left alone, that's all. Anyway, you can't refuse, Harry. It would ruin your reputation, hero or not. A life debt is a debt of honour."

Harry sighed. "So I will be Harry Snape?"

Everybody present nodded. Ginny took Harry's hand in hers. "I will love you no matter what your name is."

George giggled. "You can still take Ginny's name when you..." He fell silent when the girl glared at him.

-x-

The act of adoption was very short since Harry was of age. Mr. Weasley recommended a lawyer and two days later, Mr. Featherly and Harry went to Hogwarts to have the papers signed.

First Snape, looking smug, signed the parchment. Then Harry signed twice, once with his old name and then with his new name, Harry James Snape. He had tried to keep Potter as a middle name, but Snape wouldn't have it.

The moment Harry had lifted the quill from the parchment, it disappeared to the Ministry in a shower of golden sparks.

"Congratulations," said the lawyer. "You are now father and son. I wish you joy." He bowed and left.

"So, what now, Dad?" Harry put as much venom as possible into the last word.

"Now we wait for the reporters," smiled Snape, unimpressed by Harry's attitude. "And don't try to be cheeky, Potter. It's unbecoming."

"Don't forget, it's Snape now," Harry smirked. "You have just deprived yourself of your favourite insult."

-x-

The Daily Prophet had a field day. They easily made the front page. "Wizarding hero adopted by his mentor" the headline informed the magical community. Below it a photograph of Harry sitting on the edge of Snape's sickbed allowing himself to be hugged took most of the rest of the page.

The next two pages were filled with an interview in which Harry once again informed the reader about Snape's heroic part in the war and Snape revealed how much he had suffered by being unable to adopt his best friend's orphaned son earlier. Mrs. Weasley was in tears when she read that part.

Several pages more were filled with interviews of various people who had witnessed the secret fatherly affection Snape had held for Harry ever since he had entered Hogwarts – Minerva McGonagall, Hagrid and Gilderoy Lockhart among them – and others who knew about the admiration Harry had held for the potions master ever since he had met him. One of the latter was Harry Potter's – no Snape's! – best friend, Ronald Weasley, whom Harry himself had asked for his view of the whole matter.

The public was perfectly fooled. Within a week everybody was convinced that the adoption had been Harry and Snape's secret heart's desire for years.

-x-

It was nearly the end of August, when a whole flock of owls winged its way to the Burrow. The Weasleys as well as their house guests, Harry and Hermione, awaited them full of anticipation. The owls delivered Hogwarts letters not only to Ginny, who had been awaiting hers anxiously, but also to Harry, Ron and Hermione and even to George!

The headmaster, Severus Snape, offered all students who had not taken their NEWTs due to the war to return to Hogwarts and graduate at the end of the year.

"That's good of him," said Mrs. Weasley. "I was so worried about Ronald's future, with him not having finished his education. And you, George, can finally take your finals! Isn't that wonderful?"

Ron made a face, but George glared at his mother angrily. "You don't expect me to give up the shop for NEWTs, do you? You can't be serious! I have a business, I'm my own boss, who cares about NEWTs!" he threw his arms up in the air in a gesture of anger.

"I think he's right, Molly," said Mr. Weasley. "It would be foolish to give up a thriving business."

"I see your point, George," admitted Mrs. Weasley. "But Ronald is not a business man. You will attend school, young man!"

Before Ron could utter a word of protest, Hermione had wrapped her arm around his. "Of course we will go to Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley," she said cheerfully. "Oh, I hope they could save the library!"

"Most of it, dear," Mr. Weasley informed her. As most wizards had more pressing things on their mind than temper with muggle artefacts at the time being, his office was helping rebuild Hogwarts. Mr. Weasley was in charge of the Muggle Studies department as the teacher who had last occupied the rooms was dead.

"Wonderful," Hermione enthused. "Maybe I can help with the rest. And Harry and Ron will help, too, won't you?"

"Whatever would Harry return to Hogwarts for?" asked Ron. "He's the Wizard Who Killed Voldemort. Nobody is going to ask about his NEWTs ever."

"He will go because he wants to set a good example for the kids." Mrs. Weasley clasped her arms to her breast. She glared at Harry challengingly.

"Of course I will. It's not like I have other plans yet," Harry said modestly.

"Besides being a celebrity?" Ron laughed.

"And that way we can see each other every day," Ginny pointed out merrily. Harry blushed.

-x-

The first sight of the student crowd in the Great Hall made it clear that this was going the most difficult year at Hogwarts ever. There were seven regular years of students. In addition there were Harry and his classmates, who had missed all or most of their seventh year, and dozens of muggle-born students who had missed a school year or hadn't even set foot into the castle although they were already twelve.

The seating arrangements had been slightly changed. The Slytherin house table was much smaller than in the past because that house had lost most students, some during the battle, others because their parents thought they'd be singled out at Hogwarts and had sent them to other schools. The space that had been freed by minimizing the Slytherin table was now filled with the eighth year's table.

When Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down, many students from the other tables craned their necks to see them better.

"I just hope they will stop doing that," muttered Harry.

"Not very likely," drawled a well-known voice from the other side of the table. "Don't forget you are a hero and the headmaster's son." Draco Malfoy smiled. "You'll have to learn to ignore those who are beneath you. I can help you there."

"By doing what? Volunteering as a guinea pig?" Ron sneered at the blond boy.

"I was not talking to you, Weasley," the Slytherin hissed through gritted teeth.

Harry put a calming hand on Ron's arm. "Stop it. I won't ignore anybody. Good to see you back, Malfoy." He extended a hand and the blond shook it.

"Listen!" Hermione hissed and pointed to the front of the room, where the headmaster had gotten to his feet to speak to his students.

"Welcome back," Snape said in his still hoarse voice. "I'm happy to see so many of you well and eager to resume their studies. And I mourn for those who aren't." He paused for a minute. "You will find that this school year is different from past ones due to the bigger number of different courses we need to hold. Eighth years, you will not be under the tutulage of your former heads of houses but I will take care of your schedules personally. You will also not share your old dormitories, but have your own living area. Please wait for further instructions after the feast." At the end of the speech, Snape touched his plate with his wand and the food appeared on the house tables.

"Did you know about that?" Malfoy asked while he ladled soup into his bowl.

Harry shook his head. "I had no idea."

"Dad not sharing his plans?" Malfoy teased and Harry didn't grace the blond with an answer.

"A pity we won't be living at Gryffindor Tower," said Ron in between two bites of roast beef. "Ginny won't like it."

"I guess we still can visit," Harry pointed out.

Ron swallowed the bite he was chewing on. "Still, it's not the same."

"It won't hurt to have a place to study with no noisy first years around," Hermione pointed out.

Snape came to their table after the younger students had been sent off to their dormitories. "We don't have room for an extra year in the houses," he explained without preamble. "Therefore we prepared quarters at the East Tower for you."

"A tower, Sir?" asked Gregory Goyle. "Can't we have rooms in the dungeons?"

"The East Tower is the only area we could prepare at short notice," Snape explained. "Each of you will have a room for their own. There are common areas where you can meet. Therefore no guests are allowed in the bedrooms." He shot stern glares at the couples among the eighth years. "I also have to inform you that with enormous number of students each of you can only attend three NEWT courses. I know it's the minimum of NEWTs required to graduate but we simply don't have enough teachers to cover more lessons."

"But Sir," protested Malfoy, "three NEWTs? Nobody will employ us with only three. It's as good as having failed!"

Hermione agreed. "I have been preparing for at least seven!" she protested. "Can we at least sit the exams if we manage to prepare in self studies?"

"You are free to sit as many exams as you want," confirmed Snape.

"What about we take over some first year lessons?" Harry offered. "That way the teachers would have more time for our courses."

Snape looked at his adopted son, deep in thought. "What are you ready to teach," he then asked.

"Defence," Harry said with more confidence than he felt. "Up to fifth year, if need be."

The headmaster shook his head. "No, you can't prepare students for their OWLs, you're not a fully qualified teacher. Who else is ready to teach?"

"I can teach Potions," suggested Malfoy. "If it buys me more classes."

Snape nodded. Hermione volunteered for 'whatever was needed'. Parvati and Lavender were ready to give Divination lessons, Neville claimed Herbology and Gregory Goyle surprised everybody by volunteering for Charms. "What! That was my only O in an OWL," he cried when everybody gasped.

"I can't promise anything," Snape said at last, "but I will look into it." Then he showed the group of eighth years to their new home.

The entrance to the East Tower was on the fourth floor. The entrance was hidden behind a heavy brocade tapestry which could only be moved aside after uttering the password ('Common House'). The room into which they stepped was circular like all tower rooms at Hogwarts. The floor was covered in a thick red carpet, the sofas were green, the curtains blue and the candles floating in midair were yellow.

Harry thought it was a bit gaudy, but appreciated the union of all the house colours.

"The boys' rooms are upstairs, the girls' downstairs," Snape pointed at two staircases leading off the common room. "Weasley, kindly demonstrate what happens when you try to use the wrong stairs."

Ron swallowed hard, but stepped obediently onto the steps leading down to the girls' rooms. He yelped when he was hit by a stinging hex and jumped back.

Snape smirked. "Rest assured, Ladies, that it works the same the other way round."

Harry's new room was the last up the staircase. First he wanted to complain for having to climb so many steps, but then he noticed the view was breathtaking. The furniture was rather simple, but the room had everything Harry needed. A bed, a small cupboard, a desk and much to Harry's surprise, a small bathroom hidden behind a painting of the Hogwarts grounds.

With some flicks of his wand the boy unpacked his school trunk. There wasn't much he had brought. Just the items of clothing required for the school year, his broomstick and books. With a jolt of sadness, Harry realised that this was the first time he didn't unpack any owl treats when he came to Hogwarts. It was kind of sad to be here without his faithful familiar, Hedwig, nearby.

-x-

The next morning the headmaster called a meeting for those eighth years who had volunteered to teach in order to get more lessons. He presented a schedule, which basically required the students to teach the lower years two or three mornings each and granted them lessons in the afternoon in exchange.

"If you work together and exchange notes, I'm confident every one of you will be able to sit as many NEWTs as you like," Snape finished his little speech. "All you need is be well organised." He looked at the students challengingly before he turned on his heel and left, his robes billowing behind him as ever.

"Would it have been so hard to point out whose schedules complement one another?" growled Ron.

"Oh, give those here," sighed Hermione. She collected Harry and Ron's timetables and looked at them. "Oh no, you will be able to attend the exactly same classes," she moaned a little later. "That's bad!"

"I like being in class with Harry," Ron pointed out and Harry agreed.

"But you won't be able to help each other with additional subjects," Hermione explained patiently.

"Why don't you count me in, Granger?" Draco Malfoy held out his own schedule.

Hermione glared at the blond suspiciously, but accepted the parchment at last. "Oh!" she cried, excited. "You can give us your Defence notes. And we can give you Transfiguration in exchange."

"Transfiguration?" cried Neville. "I need Transfiguration!"

"What will you give in exchange?" drawled Malfoy.

"Herbology. And I have Divination."

"Wonderful!" cried Hermione. Within an hour she had organised the eighth years in seven study groups (Parvati was enthusiastic about the use of the most magical of numbers), which enabled everybody to get the notes for all the subjects they wanted to take. Her own group consisted of herself, Harry, Ron, Malfoy, Neville, Goyle and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Together they covered Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, Defence and Divination. Hermione, Malfoy and Justin each added one of Runes, Arithmancy and Muggle Studies to the pool of subjects.

Once everything was organised, Harry set out for his first lesson as a teacher, Defence against the Dark Arts with the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years. On his way to the classroom, he tried to remember how his teachers had started their first lessons when he had been a first year.

The first thing he did upon entering the classroom was read out the names of the students and introduce himself. Some girls giggled. A muggleborn boy asked why they didn't get a real teacher and everybody roared with laughter. The boy glared at Harry defiantly, but teary eyed until finally a kind soul explained to him that the Man Who Killed Voldemort certainly was a great choice as a defence teacher.

Then Harry told the children what he was going to teach them in their first year, namely how to recognize and avoid Dark Magic.

"We won't cover the big things like the Unforgivable Curse or poison this year; just minor jinxes, dangerous plants and the most common creatures. It will be more of an overall picture, the details will come later. Who can tell me a spell, plant or creature they know?"

They spent the rest of the lesson with lively tales of what students had experienced during the war, attacks with spells including the Unforgivables contrary to what Harry had said earlier, encounters with werewolves, vampires and banshees. Tales of child-eating plants and one girl told about a cursed hat stand which throttled those who came too close.

The rest of the morning Harry had Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. The witch put the class through their paces. She claimed she wanted to know where they stood after a year of absence and set them tasks of increasing difficulty all lesson. When finally the bell rang, she seemed quite content and assigned them an essay about the theory of conjuring liquids out of thin air.

"A word, Harry," Snape growled from behind the boy as soon as Harry had started to eat his lunch. "Now."

Harry looked at his friends, puzzled. What had he done now?

He followed Snape out of the Great Hall and into the small chamber were the first years usually waited for their sorting.

"May I know the reason why you introduced yourself as Harry Potter in your class?" Snape asked as soon as the boy had closed the door.

Harry blushed. "Sorry, it's just the force of habit."

"Sorry? Do you want to find the tale how you didn't really want to be a Snape in the papers?"

"Of course not!" protested Harry.

"Then act accordingly!"

"I will," Harry promised and turned to leave, but Snape held him back.

"What did you tell your first years?" he asked, even more angry than before.

"What? Nothing! We kind of summed up what the subject was about."

"Did you, or did you not tell the first years about werewolf attacks and furniture that attacks people? I had three muggleborns who want to leave the wizarding world at my office after your lesson!"

"What?" piped Harry. He hadn't intended to scare the kids.

"Think!" spat Snape. "How would you have reacted if Quirrell had told you about the Cruciatus curse in your first lesson?"

Harry paled. He must have scared those children to death! "Oh no! What can I do?"

"I talked to Filius. He's ready to let you come to his class in the afternoon to tell the students that you were only trying to show off and that the horrors you told them about are extremely rare." Snape growled angrily.

"Show off?" Harry protested but shut up when Snape shot him one of his trademark glares.

"You will do as I told you and you will act like my son in the future." That said, Snape left the chamber, banging the door behind him.

-x-

"And he wants me to act like his son," Harry finished his tale to Ron, Hermione and Ginny after dinner. The four were sitting in a hidden spot under a tree near the lake. "You have no idea how much I hate him!"

"Harry," Hermione admonished, "what's become of being grateful to the man? He sacrificed half of his life to the cause!"

"I gave interviews on his behalf," Harry huffed, "I told the public what a hero he is! But was that enough? No! He made me take his name! And if that wasn't enough, now he wants me to act like his son! He made me tell the first years that I was a show off, for Merlin's sake!"

"Well, telling them about werewolves in their first lesson wasn't very wise," Hermione pointed out, but fell silent when the others glared at her. The group sat in silence for a while, each of them brooding.

Finally, Harry got up. "Let's take a walk, Ginny," he held out his hand to help her up. With a resigned wave to Ron and Hermione they set out for a little stroll around the lake.

No sooner had they reached a spot hidden from Ron and Hermione that Harry pulled his girlfriend close for a passionate kiss. Ginny reciprocated with gusto, and when they finally parted she giggled and hid her face at Harry's neck. The wizarding hero joined her giggles when her breath tickled him.

"Mmh," he purred. "I missed that."

"We've been here for only a day!" Ginny chuckled.

"Much too long to go without you. Let's find a better spot." They walked further along the lake until they reached a small rock hidden behind some bushes. Without a word, both made their way through the underbrush. The rock had been their favourite hiding spot in Harry's sixth year, during those wonderful weeks before Dumbledore died.

"You know," Ginny sighed happily after a long snog, "I think Snape has no idea what it means to be a father. Just think of what Mum suffered with Fred and George." She fell silent after the mention of Fred.

Harry squeezed her hand in understanding. "You think I should give him some trouble?" he asked after giving her time to think about her brother. "That would be quite unfair."

"I know," the girl admitted. "But for a moment it was a funny thought. Snape, trying to sort out a rebellious teenager."

"He'd die of a heart attack within the week!" Harry chuckled. "It would be childish."

-x-

The next morning Harry was dumbfounded to be greeted with giggles when he entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Malfoy – who had been quite sociable the evening before when the study group had exchanged notes – handed him a Prophet with a smirk.

Harry swallowed hard.

'Hero in Love' the front page informed the readers and there was a photograph in which he and Ginny were snogging rather enthusiastically. When had she slipped her hand under his shirt?

The article on page two raised the question whether the Man Who Killed Voldemort really was in love or whether this was just a case of hero worship and the hero taking advantage of an adoring fan girl. Harry sighed. Ginny was going to be livid about being called an adoring fan girl, and being a woman she was going to blame him for it.

"Dad's not happy," Malfoy pointed out when Harry lowered the newspaper with a sigh. The blond pointed towards the head table. Harry looked up there. Snape was fuming and indicating the first year chamber with a jerk of his head. Harry nodded he had understood and walked there. Somehow these meetings in the small chamber were becoming a morning ritual.

"What have you been thinking?" raged Snape without bidding a good morning first. "Have you been thinking at all? – No, don't answer that." He brandished his own copy of the Prophet. "You were supposed to help my reputation, not sully my name!"

"We did nothing wrong! I'm a teenager and I kissed my girlfriend! So what!" Harry spat angrily. "That's perfectly normal!"

"When have you," Snape poked Harry in the chest with his index finger, "last been normal? How stupid can you be, Potter?"

"Ah, are we back to Potter now?" Harry raged. "You didn't think you were adopting the perfect little boy, were you?"

"I didn't think I was adopting a little boy at all! For Merlin's sake, you're of age! Behave accordingly!"

"For Merlin's sake," Harry imitated Snape's tone, "I'm a teenager! I'm behaving accordingly!"

"Merlin help me! I'm going to throttle him!" Snape hissed more to himself than anybody else. He threw his arms up in the air. "This is not the right time for your stubborn age!"

"I'm not being stubborn! I don't even know why you allowed reporters on the school grounds!"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "The Ministry granted them permission," he then sighed. "They claimed they wanted to take pictures of the battle ground."

"They had all summer for that," Harry pointed out.

Snape conjured a chair and sat. "I had a bad row with Kingsley about it. I told him I don't want them here with the students in residence, but he wouldn't listen."

Harry leaned back against the door frame. "They wouldn't have dared that with Dumbledore."

"You ungrateful brat!" screamed Snape. He shot up from his seat and started to pace. "How dare you!" He paced the chamber thrice before he rushed out of the room, banging the door behind him again.

Harry grinned. "A good day to you, too, Dad."

-x-

Later that day, Harry found out that he had been right about Ginny blaming him. She accosted him after his third year practical Defence lesson with the Gryffindors.

"How could you?" she growled at the wizarding hero.

"But Ginny," Harry muttered in a feeble attempt to defend himself, "what could I have done? I had no idea, just like yourself!"

"You are older," Ginny raged, "you should have known that those people were lurking the grounds. You should have put up a privacy charm. But maybe you were waiting for us to be caught! Wanted to show off what a womanizer you are, eh?"

Harry was taken aback. Show off? When had he been known to show off? "Ginny, I've had enough publicity in my life; I really don't need photos of me kissing you to push my ego."

It was the wrong thing to say. Ginny's face turned different shades of red in quick succession. "So, I don't do anything for your reputation, is that what you're saying?" she screamed. Several students in the corridor turned to stare at them openly. "Little Ginevra Weasley is not worthy to be seen with mighty Harry Potter?"

"Snape," Harry corrected without thinking.

Again, it was not the right thing to say. For a moment Ginny looked like she was going to explode before she slapped Harry's left cheek. It stung badly, but the sight of Ginny rushing off was even more hurtful.

Things didn't improve in the afternoon. Harry had been looking forward to his first Defence lesson as a student even though Snape was the teacher but of course it took the man less than ten minutes to make Harry want to run from the classroom, screaming.

"Really, Potter," smirked the wizard, handing back Harry's wand, "I start asking myself how you were able to withstand the Dark Lord for ten seconds. I don't even want to think how you managed to kill him. Probably he forgot to breathe while he laughed at you."

Harry scrambled to his feet. Why wasn't he surprised to have been chosen as a guinea pig for Snape's first practical lesson? And why wasn't he surprised that the man had cast his first spell without a warning?

"It's Snape now," Harry muttered defiantly.

"Oh, excuse me. Snape! Tell me how you managed to kill the Dark Lord when you can't even keep your wand in hand against a school master!" It seemed Snape had no problem with spitting his own name like an insult.

"Well, Dad," Harry growled angrily, "I hit him with Expelliarmus, and that was enough!"

"I refuse to tolerate any familiarity during lessons. You will call me headmaster like your fellow students during lessons and as well while we discuss your teaching!"

Harry smirked angrily. "I thought the whole adoption business was about familiarity in public?"

He had gone too far. "Out!" screamed Snape. The potions master radiated anger. Harry fled the classroom. Just when he had reached the door, a stinging hex hit his behind. The boy yelped and covered the hurting spot with his hand protectively.

Luckily Ron was more than ready to share his notes in the evening. The study group sat in a quiet corner of the eighth years' common room. Harry was in a bad mood, because instead of doing proper homework he had to catch up with a lesson he had missed just because the teacher was a malevolent git.

His mood improved a little when he watched Malfoy trying to figure out what electricity was good for.

"Really, Draco," sighed Goyle, who was reading his potions textbook, "I think you should drop Muggle Studies. You haven't taken it before. Do you really think it is wise to try and study within a year what others learn in five?"

The blond muttered something under his breath.

"What?" asked Hermione, looking up from a stack of parchment.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? I clearly heard my name," the witch insisted.

Malfoy blushed. "I said," he admitted, "that I am very well capable of taking as many NEWTs as you."

Hermione chuckled good-naturedly. "I never doubted that," she smiled. "You've always been a good student. As far as I'm concerned, you have nothing to prove."

Malfoy blushed even more. "There's another reason," he then said. "Father thinks it would be good for the Malfoy name if I took Muggle Studies. You know, to show interest in muggle things."

"So you're not really interested?" Hermione asked distrustfully.

"Actually I think it's quite interesting," admitted the blond. "I started reading the textbooks during the summer. First I thought it was going to be boring, but then I got hooked." He rummaged in his bag. "You know, those muggles are no fools. In some areas they have found better solutions than we. Here!" He held up a ball pen triumphantly.

Harry giggled. A lot had changed since the last battle.

-x-

The wizarding hero was not surprised when headmaster Snape came over to the eighth years' table at breakfast the next day and requested – ordered! – another meeting in what Harry was starting to think about as Their Chamber.

Good, so Snape wanted a word with Harry every morning. Couldn't the man just once wait until Harry had finished is meal? Having never been into subtleties, Harry conjured a tray and loaded it with food and a cup of tea. A quick spell, and the tray followed him to the Chamber.

"What's the meaning of this?" Snape snarled angrily.

"'M hungry," Harry mumbled without stopping to eat.

"Has nobody ever taught you that it's disrespectful to eat while you're talked to by a superior?"

"As a matter of fact, no." Harrry bit into another muffin. "Despite my limited knowledge on etiquette, I'm quite sure though it's not considered polite to interrupt a person's breakfast on a daily basis either." He took a big gulp of tea.

Snape overlooked the cheek. "Rumour has it that you don't give your students homework."

Harry blushed. Homework? He had never thought of that.

"How are your students supposed to learn when you don't force them to go over the lesson again?"

"I never decided consciously to forego homework," Harry admitted. "It," he shrugged, "just happened." Suddenly he remembered another thing. "Hang on! If I give them homework, I have to correct it!"

"Indeed!" Snape looked a lot younger when he was amused.

"I barely get enough sleep as it is!" the younger wizard protested. "How long does it take to correct a stack of essays?"

"There are some helpful spells," Snape pointed out.

"Spells which I don't know!"

"If you start dealing out homework today, you won't need them before tomorrow. I'll whip up instructions for you." Snape sighed. "Now that I think of it, it would be wise to give them to the other student teachers, too."

Harry nodded.

"Speaking of the student teachers," continued the headmaster. "How are things going in the East Tower?"

"Quite well, actually. Hermione organized study groups in which everybody gets all the notes they need for their NEWTs. Most of the eighth years are more than willing to cooperate with whomever it takes to finish their education. Houses are no problem. Hermione did a good job teaming up only those who would be ready to work together. So far, everything went smoothly."

"I hope it will stay like that," Snape smiled weakly. "With some students, I wasn't sure whether to invite them back, but it seemed unjust to withhold them their NEWTs just because they aren't nice enough."

"So far, we're doing well enough. And I think there are enough people willing to restore peace within the group if anything goes wrong."

Snape nodded contently and then left. Harry conjured a chair and a small table and finished his breakfast right on the spot.

-x-

The next morning, a tiny house elf informed Harry that the headmaster asked him to come to Their Chamber before breakfast. Harry obeyed grudgingly. He was hungry! Whatever the man wanted, couldn't it wait until he, Harry, had had a bite?

The Man Who Wanted Breakfast stopped short upon opening the door to the small chamber. There, in the middle of the small room, stood a round table full of food. Headmaster Snape was sitting on the other side of the table, sipping tea and chewing on a scone.

The wizard gestured at the empty chair opposite his own invitingly.

"I couldn't but notice that you were discontent with our little meetings interrupting your breakfast." Snape buttered another scone.

Although that had been his intention, Harry blushed.

Snape waved his wand and the teapot hovered over to the boy and poured tea for him. Another wave sent a roll of parchment to the young hero.

"The correction spells we were talking about," Snape explained.

Harry muttered some word of thanks between two bites. "Anything else?" Harry asked when he had finished his second scone. Although the food was delicious, he would have preferred to breakfast with his friends.

Snape hesitated. "Yes," he admitted after a short silence. "I need your help, Potter."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Snape," Snape corrected his mistake with a tired sigh.

Harry smirked.

"We are dealing badly with the number of students," the headmaster continued without acknowledging Harry's smirk. The lack of reaction worried the boy. It was against everything he knew about the older man. "We have more students, but no additional staff. About a third of the house elves have been killed in the final battle and I wasn't able to replace them yet. Every teacher has more classes than they can deal with. Hall duties and evening duties are costing us additional work time. I don't know how we are going to survive the school year without having the students' education suffer."

Harry swallowed hard. He had, of course, known that things weren't ideal. He wasn't stupid after all. But the extent of Snape's worries came as a surprise.

"I don't think the eighth years can handle more work," he admitted reluctantly.

"I wasn't suggesting that." Snape sent the teapot to refill Harry's cup. "But if we could drop certain duties in the eighth years' area, it would be helpful. Do you think we can leave the corridor up to the East Tower without a teacher in the evenings?"

"Why not?" Harry took a sip of tea. "We're too mature," – Snape snorted, which Harry found relieving in a way – ,"to go wandering about after curfew. Can you put up a spell to prevent lower years to enter that area? In that case you can leave the whole area unproctored."

Snape nodded. "That's an idea. I can draw an age line. Can you be my contact among the eighth years? If you agreed to pass on messages for me that would save me a lot of work."


	2. Chapter 2

"He put you in charge of our year?" Ron asked, surprised. Snape trusting Harry with anything important was new.

"They're struggling with the number of students. That way, we cause them no extra work."

"Professor McGonagall said today," added Hermione, "that they're particularly struggling with the muggle-born first years who should actually be in their second year."

"Some of them are still scared of everything magic," Parvati Patil agreed.

"You'd be scared, too, when you were expected to enter a world in which just a year ago a madman would have been after you," snorted Malfoy.

"Tell us more about it, oh blond defender of muggles!" cried Ron. Despite the smile on his face he was glaring at Malfoy angrily.

"Shut up, Weasley."

The eighth years quickly returned to their work, the teachers among them clutching the parchment with the grading spells happily.

"What was that about?" Harry asked Neville in a low voice.

The other boy looked around for eavesdroppers before he answered. "Malfoy and Hermione spent the whole afternoon in the library, researching muggles. Luna says Malfoy was flirting like there was no tomorrow and Hermione seemed to enjoy it."

"Ron won't like that."

"He struck Malfoy in the corridor when they left the library! Flitwick caught him. Ron has detention with him for a week! But that's not all! Hermione healed Malfoy!"

Harry thanked Neville for the information and went to find Ron. He caught him just when he was leaving the Common Room.

"I've no time to chat, mate," Ron said apologetically. "Detention with Flitwick."

"I heard," Harry walked with his friend. "What happened?"

"Malfoy was mooning over Mione. I had to show him his limits."

"'T wasn't a wise way you chose. Now Malfoy has all evening to flirt while you are serving detention."

Ron glared at Harry as if it was his personal fault that the Slytherin was suddenly interested in muggles and muggle-borns. "All week," he mumbled. "Can you keep an eye on Hermione for me?"

"Do you think I'm suicidal?" Harry snorted.

"Since when are you afraid of Malfoy?"

"I'm NOT afraid of Malfoy!" Harry protested. He was glad that they had reached Flitwick's office and the redhead was asked in as soon as he had knocked. He really wasn't afraid of the blond. Hermione was a completely different cup of tea.

-x-

Although he knew Hermione wasn't going to like it, Harry did try to keep an eye on her for Ron.

It worked for five minutes. He had followed the girl and Malfoy to the library and tried to think of a way to keep close to them. Unfortunately he had not chosen Muggle Studies, so asking them to be part of their study group wasn't an option. At last Harry decided to research some defensive spells for the essay Snape had assigned the eighth years.

"Harry," Hermione snapped after aforementioned five minutes. "Is there a reason you are carrying the books you need from one end of the library to the other? Or are you here to punch Draco and serve detention with Ron?"

Harry was taken aback, and Malfoy being the brat he was added: "Let's get it over with then." The blond stood and tipped his head to one side to give Harry better access to his chin. "Why don't you punch me here?" Malfoy pointed at his jaw, just a little left from the chin. "It's where Weasley hit me and that way I'd have only one bruise."

Harry blushed (something that was seemingly becoming a habit very quickly) and hurried to mutter "Don't be ridiculous!" He retreated to the other side of the library.

A little later catcalls and Madam Pince's angry voice informed him, that the blond had indeed kissed Hermione.

-x-

Harry was starting to hate his life. His last school year was nothing he had ever hoped for. He didn't see his friends at breakfast because of Snape. Ron was cross with him for not watching Hermione. Hermione was cross with him for watching her. Malfoy was too smug for his own good and Ginny, Ginny was still mad at him about the newspaper.

Worst of all, he had barely time for his own homework, let alone to talk to Ginny and gain her forgiveness – not that he was sure he should have to ask for it. As far as Harry was concerned the whole mess was not his fault, but Ginny saw it entirely differently and Harry may not have known much about girls, but he was wise enough not to discuss responsibilities.

-x-

Halloween rolled around, but Harry only realized it when Snape asked him to organize some of his classmates to help proctor the students on their traditional Hogsmeade outing.

It was difficult to get volunteers. Everybody needed time to catch up on their work and a nearly empty castle was too good an opportunity to miss. The only volunteers, in fact, were Draco and Hermione, who offered to guard Madam Puddifoot's. It took Harry two hours to talk Ron into going to Zonko's and Neville agreed to stay at Honeyduke's when he saw Harry was becoming desperate.

Harry assigned himself standing guard at Gladrags. His classmates had laughed to his face when he had tried to convince anybody else.

-x-

It became clear very quickly, why nobody had wanted the post. The students went straight to the Halloween costume department when they entered the shop and it was practically impossible to take points from the correct house when they wore masks. Especially the younger years – third and fourth – took advantage of their status of anonymity. Harry found himself taking and giving back house points by the minute.

About two hours into outing, he was startled by a deep voice from behind.

"What do you think you are doing here?" Snape growled. "The hourglasses look like somebody spelled a tornado into them. Gems are flying all the time!"

"They're misbehaving!" Harry pointed out the obvious. "And I don't know who they are!"

Snape rolled his eyes and pointed his wand at one of the culprits lazily. "Identitas!" he cried and the mask the student was wearing became transparent. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Vane," he drawled. The girl rushed off at top speed and Snape turned to Harry. "Easy, when you remember you're a wizard," he smirked.

"Why do I have to ask you for every teachers' spell? You want me to help you! So why don't you at least give me the means without having me beg?" Harry snarled back.

"Maybe I like seeing you eat humble pie," growled Snape.

"Oh, yes, how very much like you," Harry snapped back. "Even the people who help you have to be humiliated in the course or you won't be happy!"

"How dare you suggest I'm a bad person!"

"I don't suggest, I point out!"

"Don't try me, Potter, or I'll show you just how bad I can be!"

"I got rid of a dark lord. Do you really think I'm afraid of a school master?" Harry cried with more confidence than he felt. Snape was certainly more dangerous than Voldemort had ever been. A lack of madness and Snape's trademark determination made him that.

"A school master without whom said dark lord would have finished you off before you were even out of your nappies!"

"My mother saved me! Don't you dare claim her achievement."

"It was I who prepared the ground for her heroism!"

"By a selfish request!"

Their quarrel was interrupted by the flash of a camera. Rita Skeeter slapped her photographer when Harry and Snape stopped their row. "Don't let our presence stop you," she tried to save the situation, but Harry and Snape both snorted and left the shop.

Out on the street, they found Sinistra and Snape sent her in to take over Harry's post.

"This is your fault, Potter!" Snape snarled.

Harry didn't even have the energy to point out the repeated slips of tongue.

"You are supposed to help my reputation, not ruin it!" Snape glared daggers at the wizarding hero before he turned in a swirl of robes and stalked off to Hogwarts.

Harry would have liked to go after Snape. Letting the man have the last word in a quarrel wasn't something he thought was wise. Unfortunately following the older wizard was not an option, because Harry was still on duty. And now Rita Skeeter was after him!

The wizarding hero grinned when he remembered what Snape had said. "Easy, when you remember you're a wizard." Harry drew his wand and muttered some of the camouflage spells Professor Flitwick had been teaching them since their sixth year and which he, Harry, had practiced and improved during the year he had spent horcrux hunting.

Luckily it was nearly time for the students to return to the castle. Harry had to lift his spells when he wanted to discipline a student for they wouldn't accept a reprimand from a stranger, and he really wasn't in the mood to face the Skeeter woman.

When the last student had left the clothes store – Ernie Andrews from Hufflepuff dressed as a vampire – Harry went to the Three Broomsticks to meet the other eighth years.

Ron and Neville were already there. Both looked exhausted.

"I tell you what! If Snape needs chaperones for Hogsmeade again, don't ask me! I'd rather brew potions all day with the git himself than face the little monsters again!" Ron cried.

Several of the patrons sitting nearby chuckled.

"Don't call them monsters. You were one yourself not too long ago," Harry smiled although he felt like agreeing. "And you haven't seen the worst. At Gladrags, they're wearing masks."

"What do you think where they went once they had their costumes?" snorted Ron. "Luckily McGonagall told me about that little spell to reveal their identity only yesterday."

"You knew that spell?" Harry hissed urgently. He didn't want the other patrons to hear he hadn't known it.

"Of course. McGonagall told everybody."

"Did she?" Harry growled.

Ron nodded. "She said she guessed Snape was going to tell you." Suddenly he paled.

Harry looked the direction his best friend was looking. Hermione and Malfoy had just walked in. Both looked well-snogged and despicably happy. Hermione sat while the blond went to get them drinks.

"That was a nice quiet day," she sighed happily.

"No problems at Madam Puddifoot's?" Harry asked.

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Ron. "They wouldn't have noticed if the place was blown up right from under their butts. They were busy snogging each other stupid. Not that it takes much in Malfoy's case," the redhead snapped acidly.

"And you would know that how, Weasel?" Draco drawled from behind Ron. He handed Hermione two bottles of butterbeer without taking his eyes off his opponent.

"Shut up, Ferret!" Ron retorted angrily.

Draco smirked. "I really don't see how Hermione's and my afternoon is your business." He slid onto the edge of Hermione's chair smoothly and even managed to sit there without looking uncomfortable. Harry wished he had the blond's elegance. Once seated, Draco turned to Hermione and flashed her a brilliant smile before turning back to face Ron. The redhead had blushed crimson.

Draco waited just long enough for the silence to become awkward before he continued. "You're not jealous, Weasel, are you? Certainly you were not foolish enough to even consider Hermione would choose someone as far below her league as yourself. Merlin, with you she would be asking herself whether she has chosen simple enough words most of the time."

Ron blushed even more. "Instead she chooses somebody with whom she has to ask herself whether he considers her a mudblood."

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione cried, scandalized.

"Who do you call a mudblood, Weasel!" Draco was up in an instant. Ron followed suite. The two boys stood nose to nose, Harry trapped between them.

"You called her that not so long ago! Hermione is not stupid! She remembers which mould you're cast in!"

"Prejudice, passed on from my parents to me. Unlike you, Weasel, I have matured and seen the wrongness of what I have been taught." Draco sneered.

Harry decided he had watched long enough. He pushed both boys away to get some space to stand. "Stop it," he started, but before he could continue, he was hit by a fist. For a minute or two Harry was blinded by pain. "Harry!" he heard Hermione cry as if through a thick layer of cotton. Several hands grabbed him and somebody helped him sit back down.

"Stop it immediately! Brawlers are not welcome in here!" Madam Rosmerta cried from afar.

Little by little Harry regained vision. First he didn't see very clearly due to colourful dots blinking in front of his eyes. He blinked to clear them away.

"I'm so sorry, mate!" Ron sounded devastated. "That wasn't meant for you!"

"Oh yes, instead you wanted to break Draco's nose! How very mature of you!" Hermione busied herself trying to wipe the blood off Harry's face. The boy tried to push her away, because her touch caused the dots to return and the new pain was nearly as bad as the first.

"Leave me alone!" Harry groaned. "I need to go and see Pomfrey!" He struggled to rise. Ron hurried to support him.

As soon as they had left the pub, there was a new flash of light.

"Mr. Snape, would you like to comment?" Rita Skeeter asked sweetly.

-x-

The next morning Harry was woken by the sound of his bedroom door being slammed shut.

"Potter!"

The wizarding hero was wide awake in an instant. "Snape!" he gasped.

The wizard in question was towering over him, his face a mask of fury. Whatever had upset the headmaster must have been very bad, for the man had rushed to the eighth years' tower in his night clothes, a greyish nightshirt with an old green dressing gown thrown over it.

"Potter!" the man repeated and flung something heavy at the boy.

Harry scrambled to a sitting position and reached for his glasses. "Why did you insist on adopting me when you keep calling me Potter," he asked, stifling a yawn.

"Snape!" the older wizard corrected himself. It was amazing how he managed to speak his own name in a manner to make it sound like an insult. "What have I done that you want to torture me? Haven't I sacrificed enough in the war to deserve a normal life?"

"You mean apart from forcing your name on me?" Harry would have liked to know what Snape had thrown at him, but he didn't dare break eye contact. He couldn't afford to miss it if Snape decided to actually hex him. The potions master knew enough nasty spells to justify extra caution.

"It's a life debt!" snarled the man. "There's nothing wrong with asking for payment when you need help."

"Look," sighed Harry. "Let's not start this again. What has you so upset today?"

"You have to ask?" the older wizard gestured at whatever he had thrown at Harry.

Finally, Harry looked down at his lap. He groaned. His own bloodied face was looking at him from the front page of the Daily Prophet. Judging by the weight of the paper, it contained several extra pages.

"Let me sum it up for you, Potter," growled Snape and Harry was wiser than to correct the repeated slip of tongue. "You are a poor distraught baby. We had that bad quarrel at Gladrag's and you were so upset, you had to go brawling at the Three Broomsticks. Seeing that you are a hero and everybody's darling, it's all a cry for help. And of course your desperate state of mind is all my fault. Skeeter even suspects me to have forced you into adoption!" Snape paused. He was breathing heavily. "You are ruining what is left of my reputation instead of helping me! Why do you hate me, you ungrateful brat?"

"I don't hate you! And I'm not ungrateful!" Harry defended himself. "You are being difficult!"

"Of course I'm being difficult!" hissed Snape. "Do you really think I'd have come to you for help hadn't my situation been desperate? I promised Albus to take care of the school! I'm failing him!"

"You are not!" Harry said. "You are working hard to maintain the school. Despite the difficult situation students are getting their education. Everybody can see you're trying hard."

"Trial is failure's sister." Snape sunk down onto the edge of Harry's bed.

Somehow Harry found it frightening to see the potions master so vulnerable. "I'm sorry about the bad press. What can I do to help? I'll give an interview if you think it's a good idea."

Snape sighed. "I have to think about it."

"Why don't we both get properly dressed and walk down to breakfast together," Harry suggested.

The older wizard nodded. "Demonstrating unity is a good idea." He pointed his wand at himself the night shirt and dressing gown changed into the black teaching robes Snape usually wore.

Little later, father and son entered the Great Hall side by side.

Harry went to sit with the other eighth years while Snape took his seat in the middle of the Head Table. Harry watched the man reply to whatever Professor McGonagall had smiled at him.

"I'm really sorry, Harry," Ron's voice startled Harry out of his reverie. "I know how much you hate the attention and thanks to me you got even more of it."

"It's not your fault," the boy hero sighed. "Skeeter had already a picture of me and Snape shouting in front of Gladrag's. If she hadn't got the picture of my broken nose, she'd have used that one."

"I broke your nose?" Ron winced. "I didn't mean to!"

"I certainly hope so." Harry concentrated on his bacon and eggs. A broken nose was no big deal after his year as a public enemy. He knew enough healing spells to deal with much worse injuries.

"Not again!" Ron groaned after some minutes of silent breakfasting.

Harry looked up just in time to see Malfoy and Hermione make their way to the table hand in hand. "You know," he said, "things won't change if you only stare at them. Why don't you tell her how you feel?"

"How I feel?" Ron's voice went up an octave.

"You certainly wouldn't have been mooning over her for years if you didn't feel anything for her," Harry pointed out. "You have to tell her at some point, and as far as I'm concerned now would be a better time than at her and Malfoy's wedding."

"Wedding?" Ron's voice went further up.

Harry smirked at his best friend and looked at Hermione, who was watching Malfoy ladling porridge into her bowl, pointedly.

"She hates porridge," muttered the redhead before he got up and walked to Hermione's side. "May I talk to you while Malfoy is putting strawberries on the porridge you won't eat?" The girl got up from her seat and followed the redhead out of the Great Hall before the blond could start a new row.

"Thanks," Ginny said from behind Harry and sat on the chair her brother had just vacated. "I thought he was going to lose her." She pecked Harry on the cheek.

"He still may," Harry pointed out.

"Really?" Ginny looked over at Malfoy who was spooning strawberries and porridge into his mouth.

"I think that Hermione feels just as much for Ron as he for her," Harry sighed. "But since when have I understood women."

Ginny chuckled. "You are sweet," she moved to peck Harry's cheek again, but the Man Who Was Faster Than Voldemort turned and her lips landed on his instead. The girl hesitated for a moment, but then she reciprocated and the peck turned into something more passionate. There were a few catcalls and Snape's carrying voice announced "Twenty points from Gryffindor for lack of morals!" followed by a scandalized "Severus!" from McGonagall. Harry couldn't have cared less. All that counted was Ginny back in his arms.

-x-

It seemed Ron's talk to Hermione had been successful for when the two showed up for their Charms lesson, both looked very happy and their hair was a bit more tousled than usual. Hermione sat down beside Ron, ignoring the seat Malfoy had saved her.

Harry thought he must have missed something while he had taught lower classes all morning, because Malfoy slammed his book shut and snarled "Enough is enough!" before he left the room, head held high.

Professor Flitwick was obviously as unaware as Harry was of what this was about. "My, my!" the tiny wizard cried. "What got into Mr. Malfoy? It's not like him to skip a lesson!"

Harry leant closer to the Hufflepuff sitting beside him. "What did get into Malfoy?" The other boy shrugged.

After a particularly interesting lesson about how to make things do your bidding – Harry made his inkwell grow arms and turn the pages of his book for him – Harry went looking for Goyle.

"What's the matter with Malfoy?" he asked without preamble. "He missed Charms."

Goyle glared at Harry for a few moments distrustfully, but then decided Harry was being sincere. He pulled the other boy into an empty classroom. "Your friend humiliated him. That's what the matter with Malfoy is."

"What did Ron do?"

"Weasley? I'm talking about Granger! Do you have any idea how difficult it was for Draco to admit his feelings for her, given the past? He risked ridicule when he opened up to her, and she didn't even have the decency to refuse him right away. She used him to make Weasley jealous!"

"I don't think…"

"But Draco thinks!"

Harry sat on one of the tables heavily. "Do you think he'll do something … stupid? The school really doesn't need any more trouble."

Goyle shook his head. "Draco wants his education. He won't do anything that would endanger his NEWTs. But I'm not sure what he'll do once he has them."

"I'll have to warn Ron and Hermione." Harry suddenly felt so tired!

-x-

Malfoy avoided Ron and Hermione for three days. In the evenings, he borrowed notes from the others in their study group to catch up on the lessons he had missed.

"You know, Draco," said Harry while he watched the blond copy his Charms notes, "I think you should come back to class. You are a good student, but not even you can uphold your high level without actually being at the lesson. You're missing the details. Look here." He pointed at a passage in the notes. "That spell works much better when you give your wand a tiny flick at the end. Flitwick demonstrated it, therefore I know about it. But it's not in the notes as I have no idea how to describe the flick accurately."

"Show me," demanded the other boy.

Harry drew his wand and demonstrated how Flitwick had pushed the tip of his wand up when he had showed them the spell.

"Interesting," admitted the blond. They experimented with different kinds of flicks and the one Flitwick had used was indeed the one with the best results. "You're right. You can't get things like that out of notes. I have to go back to class." He looked over to the fireplace where Ron and Hermione were cuddling over their Transfiguration textbook. The blond sighed.

"I'm really sorry for you," Harry stated.

"Don't tell me you don't prefer to see her with your friend."

"I won't deny that, but I'd have been happy to see her with you, too, if that had been what she wanted."

Draco looked doubtful. "You considered me an enemy only some months ago."

Harry shrugged. "You changed your mind about Hermione. And you work together with me. We all have changed."

-x-

"I've been told," said Snape without elaborating by whom, "that there is a slight disagreement among the eighth years." The man buttered a scone and looked expectantly at Harry, who was once again denied breakfast with his friends in favour of eating with the headmaster in their chamber off the Great Hall.

"A disagreement?" Harry echoed. Bacon or beans? Or both? And what was in that little bowl? Where these eggs? Harry had never seen them prepared like this. The variety of food the elves provided for the headmaster's breakfast was bigger than what the students got and Harry had weeks ago started to think of the culinary aspect as a bonus. At least he wasn't kept from his friends for nothing.

"You know very well what I mean," Snape stated accusingly.

"Humour me."

"Rumour has it that Weasley has seduced Malfoy's girlfriend."

Harry spluttered tea all over his plate. "Seduced Malfoy's girlfriend?" He snorted. "Firstly, I'll have you know that Ron and Hermione have belonged together for years before Malfoy came along and tried to win Hermione over. Secondly, even you must have realized at some point that Hermione is far too headstrong to be seduced away from what she wants."

"So she has been playing with Malfoy?"

"I don't think so." Harry was so fed up with having to justify his friends' love life. As if Goyle hadn't been enough! And now Snape of all people wanted his assessment of the situation! "Anyway, I don't think it's my place to talk about this." There. That must stop Snape.

"It is, as I asked you to keep an eye on the eighth years for me. Malfoy, you certainly realized for yourself, does not lose easily. He's certain to hold a grudge, and I am not foolish enough to think he'll forget it anytime soon."

"You think Ron is in danger?"

"I think Mr. Weasley is perfectly safe, but Miss Granger would do well to watch out for Mr. Malfoy's revenge. You don't make a Slytherin look bad unpunished."

Harry sighed. "I'll make sure to warn her."

-x-

December brought a bad surprise, but none that had to do with Hermione, Ron or Malfoy.

Snape insisted that his son spend Christmas with him at Hogwarts!

Harry had spent weeks planning Christmas with Ginny at the Burrow. He knew whom to ask for help to get an hour or two with her in private in the crowded house. He had chosen a present – a beautiful necklace with a heart-shaped pendant – ordered it via owl-post using Neville's name, wrapped it in Gryffindor colours and hidden it away in his trunk without Hermione, Ron or anybody else who could spill the beans realizing it.

"I have different plans!" Harry protested. Ginny really deserved a romantic Christmas. Merlin, HE deserved a romantic Christmas!

"I'm afraid my needs will take priority over yours. Did you see the article in the Prophet last week?"

Harry smirked. Who would have overlooked that article? Nobody knew where they got the photograph of a very young Snape hitting that muggle. Harry was sure it had been taken after the potions master had turned to the Light, all the muggle got from the punch was a nose-bleed, after all. But of course the public didn't share that opinion.

"We are lucky that the parents of our muggle-borns don't have access to the Prophet," sighed Snape, "or they wouldn't let their children come back after Christmas. As it is, five students have been taken out of school as a reaction to the article."

"And you think me staying over Christmas will help?" Harry seriously doubted it would.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "The paper mentioned that you're keeping me in check. If it takes your presence to make the public think I won't run amok on my students then you have to stay."

"That's ridiculous. As if I had the power to keep you from doing what you want!" Harry threw his arms up in a gesture of desperation.

"You had the power to overcome the Dark Lord. The public opinion of you couldn't be higher."

"I want to go to the Burrow!" Harry insisted.

"No!"

"You know what? This whole adoption rubbish is quite annoying! You are not my father! You can't tell me what to do!"

"Potter!"

"It's Snape! See? Not even you yourself are taking this serious! I'll go to the Burrow!"

"You will not!"

The potions master and the teenage hero stood nose to nose, each radiating power and anger. Someone behind them cleared her throat.

-x-

"What now?" Minerva McGonagall asked coolly from the door. "Are you going to punch each other like common muggles? Or are you going to hex each other? Anyway, maybe we should invite Ms. Skeeter? She'd have a field day if she got wind of what is going on between you two."

Both wizards stared at her with a mixture of fury and embarrassment.

"He's being annoying on purpose!" Snape growled finally.

"I am not!" shouted Harry. "All I asked for is permission to spend Christmas with the people I care for!"

The headmaster looked murderous for a moment, but then he turned on the spot and left at top speed, his robes billowing dramatically behind him.

"Was that really necessary?" the old witch stepped closer to Harry.

Harry blinked. "I want to spend Christmas with my friends! Isn't it enough that he forced his name on me? Does he have to spoil my Christmas, my first one with a family?"

"Well," the Transfiguration teacher snapped. "If you stay here, you'll be with your father. I guess one could count that as family."

"He's not really my father," Harry informed her in the same tone he would use on a two year old explaining which shoe to put on which foot. "This whole adoption thing is just for the media. He wanted to save his reputation."

McGonagall clucked. "Severus is a very private and serious man. He would never give his name to a person he did not care for at all. The whole life debt thing may have been his excuse, but I don't believe for a moment that he would have gone through with the whole thing hadn't he thought there was a chance for you to get on well."

"Why would he think that? We've hated each other for years!"

"He was your mother's friend. Never forget that!"

"And he hated my father. He'll never let me forget that."

"Indeed," the witch turned to leave. "But what will be stronger at the end of the day? And whatever you think, he's right about the students. People don't trust him, thanks to the press, but they trust you."

Harry sat on one of the armchairs, for the first time alone in the headmaster's office. He sighed. He wanted to go to the burrow so badly! But if he did, magical children might not get a proper education. Worse, if somebody – there were still enough muggle-haters out there! – got the idea to pass the articles about Snape on to the parents of muggleborns, magical children would lose their inheritance, for one thing Harry was sure about: a muggle who was scared of a world they didn't understand in the first place would not let their child come to a school when the headmaster was known to hate muggles.

With a sigh, Harry resigned to his fate. He had to stay, not for Snape, but for the students.

-x-

Ginny, Ron and Hermione promised to bring back some of their mother's cakes for Harry after the holiday. Ron and Hermione looked at him pityingly and Ginny's beautiful eyes were moist with tears when she hugged him good-bye. Harry wanted to tell her how badly he wanted to come with them, but too many people were within earshot.

"I'll kill Snape if he's not nice enough," Ron promised.

Harry looked at the seventh year Slytherins standing nearby. They had stopped speaking at the mention of Snape.

"He'll be nice enough," he said loud enough for them to hear. "He's my dad after all and this is our first Christmas together."

-x-

Once his friends – along with most of the student body – were gone, Harry stormed up to the headmaster's office. Snape was sitting behind his desk sorting through a pile of papers.

"There!" Harry spat. "They're all gone and I'm still here. Content? And what am I to do at Hogwarts with nobody around?"

"Nobody? You're hurting me, Harry." Snape smiled and Harry felt reminded of a snake ready to strike. "We should spend some time together. Go shopping, go out to a nice restaurant or perhaps the cinema?"

"Are you asking me on a date, or what?"

"A date?" Snape sounded genuinely disgusted. "Certainly not. I thought we should have fun together. You know, enjoy some family time."

"Since when have you been having fun?"

"It will surprise you, but I do like to enjoy myself from time to time."

"Hang on," finally Harry caught on. "You want to be seen with me in public!"

Snape had the decency to blush when caught. "If it's not asked too much, it'd be helpful."

"Why didn't you say so right away?" Harry rolled his eyes.

Snape's lips went so thin, they became a mere line. "Do I have to ask for every single little favour?" Harry wondered how the man managed to speak with his mouth barely moving.

"You want to make a public appearance as a reformed man, a family guy?"

"Yes, Potter; a man enjoying the season with his son."

"I see. Then why don't we go to Diagon Alley? I still need some Christmas shopping and we could go for an ice cream. I haven't had ice cream in months."

"I don't like ice cream," Snape pointed out, "but since Fortescue's is one of the most frequented places in the alley, I agree."

Harry smirked. "We can sit outside, if you like. I heard they have excellent warming spells for their tables."

It was barely an hour later that Severus Snape and Harry Potter entered Diagon Alley via the Leaky Cauldron. They went to the ice cream parlour first, where they were stared at by dozens of passers-by as they ate their ice creams. Harry had a good laugh when the sour potions master ordered a sinfully big chocolate composition with strawberries and whipped cream. The teenage hero himself went for an in comparison tiny cup of fruit flavoured ice creams with caramel sauce.

"This feels like a zoo!" Snape snarled and dropped his napkin onto the table impatiently. He rose to leave although his ice cream was only half eaten. "Let's go shopping, Po… Harry." He barely managed to avoid a slip of tongue in public.

Harry had finished his small cup some minutes earlier and therefore agreed immediately.

They left a tip on the table and set out for the bookshop first.

The bookshop was pretty crowded. It turned out that being with Snape was a good thing in a shop full of Christmas shoppers. He snarled and sneered at people and the crowd parted in front of them like the Red Sea did for Moses.

Harry followed the older wizard to the potions department and from there fought his way over to the Quidditch section. He chose a book for Ron – Most Spectacular Keeps in Centuries – and then went on to the back of the shop where the more specialized books were kept.

"What are you doing in the expert section?" sneered Snape who was the only one there but a small plump witch who looked old enough to be Dumbledore's grandmother. The man was holding a small stack of potions books already.

"I was going to get a book for Hermione."

The potions master stared at Harry for a moment before he admitted: "Yes, Granger may be able to understand the books from this section. But how on earth were you going to choose a book for her?"

Harry shrugged. "I was going to take one I don't understand."

Snape laughed humourlessly. "What a strategy! You'd have to buy half the store! – What topic do you want for her?"

"Charms, I think," Harry mused. "Hermione is really good with charms. She started researching extracurricular charms in her third year!"

Snape turned to the bookshelves and contemplated a small section. "Here," he motioned Harry closer. "These two should be what you're looking for. Choose depending on how much money you want to spend."

Harry took both books from the shelf and had a closer look at them. The cheaper one was a book called "Cleaning for the Busy – What to do when you have better things to do than cleaning" and covered all sorts of household charms. Harry thought Hermione might like it, not because she wanted to clean, but because this group of very useful charms was not covered by Hogwarts' curriculum at all. "You know," he said to Snape, "that we never learned household spells at Hogwarts? I think they should be part of the curriculum. Everybody needs them at some point."

Snape shrugged. "Albus tried to convince Flitwick on several occasions, but Flitwick refuses. He says people would take him for a house elf if he suddenly started cleaning."

Harry snickered and looked at the other book. "Charm the World – Spells for All Occasions". The tome was bound in heavy leather and the title was written in gold.

"I think I'll take both," Harry decided. "I'll give the spells for all occasions to Hermione and keep the household spells for myself. They're interesting."

"I never knew you had a secret desire to become a house elf," chuckled Snape.

Harry laughed. "My relatives sometimes treated me like one. I may as well learn how to do it properly."

After the bookshop they went to the sweets shop – Harry needed a present for Percy and how wrong could a nice chocolate bar be? – to the stationer's, the owl emporium and finally to Gladrag's.

"I always took you more for the Madam Malkin's type," Harry said when they entered the wizarding world's most hip clothes store.

"Madam Malkin's?" sneered Snape. "Nice, if you're looking for a working robe. But if you need proper clothes that will show that you are a respectable wizard you better spend a bit more."

"You mean if you want to impress some pureblood ass, you go to the cool shop. It wouldn't do to meet Lucius Malfoy in a Madam Malkin's robe."

"What are you implying?" snarled the potions master.

"That you want to impress the wrong people?" Harry imitated the older wizard's tone.

"And how, pray tell, can you know that I'm not trying to impress the right people?" Snape snapped defensively.

Harry chuckled. "As if!"

"If you add 'once a deatheater, always a deatheater', I'm going to throttle you! I will not be insulted just because I prefer decent clothes."

Harry blushed. "I was not going to say that," he muttered.

Snape turned on the spot and hurried towards the wizards' department without sparing Harry another glance. The teenage hero hurried after him. "Look, I'm sorry!" he cried. He hadn't spent all morning demonstrating family bliss to the public to spoil it now because of a row over clothes. "It's just that I always took you for… well, old-fashioned."

"Old-fashioned?" snarled Snape. "Potter, can't you tell the difference between designer robes and rags?"

"Obviously not," Harry snarled back. "You know, I don't know anybody who wears designer robes. Well, apart from you it seems."

"Really, didn't you ever look at Draco Malfoy? His mother has excellent taste when it comes to clothes."

"Malfoy? No, I never thought of taking Draco Bloody Malfoy as a standard when it comes to dressing."

"Well, you should have. You could have learned something."

Harry sighed. "Listen. I thought you were poor! Why would I ever suspect you to dress in designer robes?"

"Think, Potter," hissed the potions master. "I worked as a teacher and could not afford to go out much. What would I have done with my money? Donated for war orphans like yourself? I think not." He stopped in front of a rack full of black robes.

A shop assistant came running to assist Snape with his shopping. "Professor Snape," the boy cried. "How wonderful to see you here! Let me congratulate you on the adoption of your son! And Mr. Potter, you must be so proud to have a war hero for a father!"

"I've always had a war hero for a father," Harry spat, irritated.

"Gregory," Snape interrupted the Gryffindor Golden Boy. "I need dress robes for the Christmas ball. Something black, I'd say."

"Black! An excellent choice!" cried Gregory. "We've just got a new patch of dress robes which may meet your taste. I'll fetch them for you." He hurried off.

"You know," mused Harry, "a little bit of colour would be good for your reputation. You know, people would think you're enjoying yourself."

"What are you going to suggest? That we make an appearance in matching dress robes?" Snape chuckled humourlessly.

"Certainly not," Harry snarled back. "I don't think there is a colour that would suit us both."

"But Mr. Potter," cried Gregory, who was returning with an armful of robes, "green would suit you both! It would look lovely!"

Snape smiled. Harry did not like his expression at all. "Green! Splendid! I think we should go for green robes both, son."

Harry gasped. "Green? I'd look like a Slytherin!"

"Nonsense! And may I remind you that you wore green to the Yule Ball in your fourth year."

"I didn't choose those robes myself!" cried Harry. "Mrs. Weasley thought the colour was going well with my eyes!"

"Be that as it may, I wish us to wear matching green robes for the Christmas ball."

Harry fought Snape nail and tooth, but the headmaster was a returning customer and Gregory knew better than to anger him. He brought stacks of robes in various shades of green for them to try on.

Snape favoured a dark, almost black, forest green. Unfortunately that colour didn't go with Harry's eyes so well and the potions master had to agree to try a lighter green.

"Definitely not!" cried Harry when he exited the dressing room. "This is Slytherin green! All I miss is a Slytherin badge and you can use me as the house poster boy!"

"For robes in this price category, the application of a house badge will be free," Gregory informed them.

Harry roared with frustration, especially since he had to admit that Snape looked really good in Slytherin colours. He was not going to let Snape win this fight.

"I want emerald green!" he cried and stomped his foot like a spoiled brat. "It goes perfect with my eyes."

Gregory looked at Snape questioningly.

"Don't look at him like that!" hissed Harry. "I'm the bloody Boy Who Lived and I want emerald green robes!"

An older wizard wearing a Gladrag's badge hurried towards them as Harry's tantrum gained volume. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

"This man," Harry pointed at Gregory accusingly, "is treating me like a child."

"He wouldn't if you weren't behaving like one!" hissed Snape.

"You would not be happy if you were in my shoes either," cried Harry. "I killed the bloody Dark Lord, but your shop assistant seems to think I'm not capable of choosing dress robes. He keeps conferring with my father as if I was four!"

"But that's only because you wanted matching robes! He has to wear the same, so I should ask him. Professor Snape is one of our most esteemed returning customers. Of course I want him to enjoy his shopping experience at Gladrag's!" Gregory cried.

"Nonsense!" snapped Harry. "I am a celebrity." He looked at the two employees pointedly. "If it gets publicly known that I bought my dress robes here, it will do your shop a world of good." He looked at several of the green robes pointedly. "I am the only one with a bit of natural colour here," he pointed at his eyes. "It's logical to choose the robes so that they match me. Dad, on the other hand, has black hair and eyes. Every shade of green will be okay for him."

"Mr. Potter has a point," said Gregory's superior. "Why don't you try emerald green?" He helped Gregory search for emerald green robes in the stack and handed Harry several to choose from.

Snape refused one of the robes as "too frivolous" – it left the ankle uncovered – and one as "too girly" – laces on the lapel – but declared one acceptable. Harry went to try it on and by the time he left the dressing room, Snape already wore the same robes.

The robes were elegant and plain, without any decoration like laces or embroidery. They showed the collar of a black shirt and tie at the neckline and went really well with Harry's eyes.

"Wonderful!" cried the senior shop assistant. "Mr. Potter, Professor Snape, those were made for you!"

Both wizards had to admit that the robes looked good on them. They had them sent to Hogwarts before they went back outside to do some more shopping.

-x-

"I'll go wrap my presents," said Harry when they returned to Hogwarts. "I need to send Hedwig off to get them to the Burrow in time."

"You have two hours," said Snape. "I have a reservation for a table in Hogsmeade."

"And that concerns me how, exactly?" Harry glared at the potions master.

"I'm taking my son out for dinner," the older man specified. "Wear something nice." He turned and swept up the stairs in a swirl of robes.

The Gryffindor sighed and then hurried off to the eighth years' quarters to do some speed-gift-wrapping.

-x-

Hedwig sat on the Harry's wardrobe and watched him fight with spellotape and bows. Harry sighed for the umpteenth time when he wrapped the necklace he had bought for Ginny. The paper he had used first was far too delicate for the parcel to be carried by owl. He'd have loved to give it to her personally and see her face when she unwrapped the small heart-shaped pendant, but Snape had seen to taking this from him.

Once Harry was done with his wrapping, he put all the presents he had got for the Weasleys and Hermione into a large box and tied it to Hedwig's leg.

"Have a safe journey!" he whispered to the owl before she took off and then started to rummage for something decent to wear for dinner. He didn't like to be told what to do and being told how to dress like a four year old did nothing to improve his mood. In a bout of rebellion Harry settled on a pair of jeans and a plain grey jumper.

Snape frowned when he saw him. "Is that 'nice' in your world?" he asked acidly, turning up his nose on Harry. "Go back to your room and get decent clothes immediately!"

"These are decent clothes," Harry snapped back, "and I will not go back and redress." He had to use quite an amount of willpower not to stomp his foot.

"Suit yourself then," the older wizard snarled and waved his wand at his adoptive son. The jeans changed into velvet trousers and the jumper became a white silk shirt with a too tight black bow tie.

Harry squeaked when a tail coat materialised on him out of thin air. "What did you do to me?" He glared at Snape angrily.

"Treat you like the insolent little child you act!" Snape smirked at him and conjured a mirror for Harry to look at his reflection.

The boy gasped and touched his now slick hair in disbelief. "Take that back!" he cried. "I look like a crossing between Draco Malfoy and a penguin!"

"You had your chance," snapped Snape. "Now come. We are late." He wrapped his cloak around his frame and turned to leave the castle.

With an outcry of frustration, Harry pointed his wand at the back of the potions master and fired a spell. Snape was taken by surprise and managed to block only part of it. The elegant robes he was wearing changed colour and became magenta with silver reindeer frolicking all over them.

"Potter!" roared the potions master when he realised what had happened to his elegant black robes.

"Snape." Harry corrected the other man with a smirk. "We are late." Grinning from ear to ear, he swept past the potions master towards the gates.

Snape followed Harry down to the gates, flicking his wand at his robes every few steps. He roared with frustration when they stayed as gaudy as they were.

Harry laughed. "Don't tell me you didn't add a temporary irreversibility component to your spell!"

Snape glared at the younger wizard. "Of course I did that. I wouldn't want you to change back into jeans before we're back, would I? That does not, however, give you the right to change my clothes permanently! Those robes were expensive!"

"I didn't change them permanently, only until we're back," grinned Harry.

They walked down to Hogsmeade in silence, Snape seething with anger and Harry stifling snickers. The potions master had reserved a table at the Indian Goblet, one of the smaller taverns of Hogsmeade.

The Indian Goblet was in a quiet side alley. The interior was elegant with small tables, most of them for only two patrons and already occupied. A young girl in a red sari showed them to a table near the window.

Snape thanked her and started studying the menu.

"This must be the most public table they have!" Harry complained. He had never enjoyed his fame and the public attention it caused.

"I specifically asked for it," Snape muttered without looking up from the menu. He turned the page he was studying. "Are you familiar with Indian food or do you need help?"

"I was going to handle this the Gryffindor way," Harry grinned.

"What would that be?"

The younger wizard closed his eyes and put the menu on the table. He opened it blindly and then pointed, his eyes still closed, at the menu. Once his finger had landed on the paper, he opened his eyes. "I'll have Chicken Korma." He beamed at the potions master.

"However strange the method may be, it's a good choice," commented Snape.

"And you? What will you take?" asked Harry. "Are you adventurous enough to choose the Gryffindor way?"

"Why would I do that?"

"It's fun!"

"It's foolish!"

"Coward!"

Snape glared at Harry angrily. "So be it!" he snarled and put his menu down. He closed his eyes with a sour expression, opened the menu and put his finger down. "Chicken Madras? I hate that!" He started to scan the page for something else.

"Going to chicken out?" teased the Gryffindor.

"Of course not!" huffed the potions master.

They ordered their meals and then continued to glare at each other in silence.

The food was served fairly quickly. Snape did not look happy at all and Harry felt bad about goading him into ordering the unloved dish.

"May I try it?" the younger wizard asked shyly.

Snape gestured at the platter. "Help yourself."

Harry took a small portion of the dish. It was a lot spicier than his. "Mmh!" the boy purred. "That's good!"

"I'd be willing to trade some for yours," offered Snape. Harry thought he looked very hopeful. Since he liked the Chicken Madras, he agreed.

Once Snape had access to food he liked, the evening got a lot better. The two wizards exchanged gossip about Hogwarts. Harry provided information about the eighth years – Snape was particularly interested in the Hermione-Ron-Draco triangle – and Snape shared some stories about the staff, only harmless anecdotes but amusing nevertheless.

At some point there was a flash outside as if from a camera. Snape looked content. Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't let the reporters spoil his evening. When they went back up to the castle later, there were again some camera flashes, but since nobody tried to get an interview, neither wizard felt disturbed.

Snape led the way to his office when they reached the castle. He poured glasses of cherry brandy for both of them and motioned Harry to sit in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace.

"That was not so bad, was it?" he smiled lopsidedly as he took a small sip of the sweet liquor.

Harry didn't answer. The evening had not been so bad, but given a choice he would have preferred to spend it at the Burrow any time. Telling Snape that would change nothing but the older wizard's mood; therefore Harry stayed silent.

Snape understood without being told. "It was necessary," he said with a hint of apology in his voice. "You know the situation. It's necessary for Hogwarts."

"It's necessary for you and your reputation," Harry pointed out.

Snape shook his head. "I am the headmaster. My reputation is important for the school's fate."

Harry nodded in understanding. "By helping you, I help Hogwarts."

They sat in comfortable silence for a little while. It was Snape who finally broke it. "I contacted Molly Weasley. She invited us for Christmas dinner."

"I can go to the Burrow?" Harry asked with unmasked hope. Maybe he could steal some minutes with Ginny!

"We can go to the Burrow," Snape corrected him. "We can stay over night if you don't mind sharing a room with me. They have quite some people there this year."

Harry would have done more than spend a night in the same room with Snape if it meant he could wake at Ginny's home on Christmas Day and give her her present. He agreed readily to share with the other wizard. "That's nice of you to contact Mrs Weasley and ask for me. Thank you." He smiled at Snape. "I'll retire now."

Snape wished Harry a good night and advised him to meet at the entrance hall for their trip to the Burrow the next morning.

When the two wizards walked down to the gates to leave the anti-apparition wards, Harry spotted a group of people waiting by the gates.

"Not again," he sighed. A flash gave the waiting crowd away as reporters. "Can't I have peace and quiet at least at Christmas?"

"It may be a chance to convince them of our newly found family bliss," Snape pointed out. "If we get some good press, we may even be able to let you stay with the Weasleys' for some days without finding headlines about our differences in the family all over the papers."

"Really?" Harry beamed at Snape. "What do you want me to do?"

Snape shrugged. "Just give them the impression you enjoy my company."

Some months earlier, Harry would have seriously doubted he could do that, but nowadays that was no longer a problem. "Ladies and gentlemen," he cried when the reporters showered them with questions, "I'm certain you understand that Christmas is for the family. It's the first one after we all have dealt with the aftermath of the War. Headmaster Snape and I should not have to deal with you today and you should not be waiting for us here. Why don't you go home to your loved ones and enjoy the season? – Come, Dad, our friends are waiting." Without waiting for an answer or giving the press a chance for further questions he tugged on Snape's sleeve and urged him to walk away from the crowd. "I can't wait to tell them about those robes I gave you yesterday," he giggled loud enough for the reporters to hear just before he took them away side by side.

"My, my, Mr Potter," Snape drawled when they re-materialised in front of the burrow. "I'm surprised you didn't end up in Slytherin."

"Was that okay?" Harry asked shyly.

The older wizard grinned. "Fishing for compliments, are you? That was more than okay. Now let's go inside. It's cold out here."


	3. Chapter 3

Molly Weasley opened the door for the two wizards before they could knock. "Harry! Severus!" she cried merrily. "Do come in!" She hugged Harry when he passed her and, to Harry's surprise, did the same with the older wizard when he followed.

Mr Weasley got up from his seat at the table when he spotted them and came to shake their hands. "Severus," he said when he shook Snape's, "welcome to our home. I can't thank you enough for what you did for my family. Without you, Ginny would have been lost when those people taught at Hogwarts. It's a shame that some people are so hostile against you after what you went through for all of us."

Snape acknowledged the thanks with a curt nod. "I'm sorry I couldn't prevent the loss your family suffered. Fred was one of the most gifted potions students I ever taught."

A shadow of sadness passed over Mr Weasley's face but it was quickly gone. "Others suffered more," he said and then ushered them to the living room where the newcomers were greeted by the Weasley children, Hermione and Bill's wife, Fleur, who was with child.

Harry was hugged and his back slapped in welcome repeatedly. Snape's welcome was a bit less enthusiastic, but nevertheless warm. George picked up a conversation on the properties of rose thorns with Snape and the two soon retreated to a quiet corner of the room to discuss the topic further. George even started taking notes after a short while.

"It's great you could make it, mate," said Ron. The Golden Trio, as the press had called them after the final battle, occupied the rug in front of the fireplace. The redheaded boy held Hermione's hand as if the whole Malfoy trouble had never taken place. Ginny joined them and snuggled up to Harry without a word.

"You gave us quite a shock the other day," smiled Hermione. "I thought I was hallucinating when that new owl of yours swept in."

Harry grinned. "I've been missing Hedwig so much, I had to get myself a new one; and when I spotted the white one among all those barn owls it was an easy decision. Your presents were her first big delivery. Did she do alright?"

"She did a great job," confirmed Ron. "What is she called?"

"Hedwig." Harry swallowed hard. "I'd have preferred to name her differently, but the shop owner got her from a private breeder and she already had been named. It seems there's a market for snowy owls called Hedwig." He sighed. Although he had learned to use his fame for good purposes – mainly fundraising events for war orphans and not to forget saving Snape's reputation – he still hated being reminded of it.

"I never knew you had got her," pouted Ginny. It seemed she didn't like being left out of a life-changing decision like the purchase of a new pet.

Harry gathered her closer. "Snape suggested I buy her. I meant to tell you but then there was the matter of me having to stay at Hogwarts and not spend Christmas with you. I was so upset!" It was the right thing to say for Ginny pecked Harry's lips as a reply.

"No snogging in front of the fireplace, Harry!" Charlie cried good-naturedly from the sofa where he had been in conversation with Bill and Fleur.

"Jealous, are we?" Harry laughed.

"Eew, why would I snog you?" Charlie made a face.

Their little exchange was interrupted by Mrs Weasley, who announced that dinner was ready.

Harry was seated between Ginny and Hermione. The meal was delicious and the fact that he was able to touch his knee to Ginny's from time to time made it even better. Harry enjoyed his food – Mrs Weasley was easily the best cook he knew – and listened to the various conversations going on around the table.

Mrs Weasley was absorbed in a conversation with Fleur about the impending arrival of the first Weasley grandchild. Mr Weasley discussed the idea of a new dragon reserve in Northern Scotland – it had been mentioned on the wireless – with his two oldest sons. Apparently Charlie planned to apply for the position of superintendent.

George and Ron discussed the joke shop. Ron felt George should let him help create jokes. Secretly, Harry agreed with George that Ron lacked the sense of humour which had made Fred such a splendid joke creator, but of course he'd never tell Ron that.

Snape was seated beside Percy. They had a vivid discussion about the new Department for the Welfare of Magical Children in Muggle Custody. After the war, it had been decided that young witches and wizards who were raised by muggles should have a magical guardian who kept in touch with them from an early age. The families should not be surprised by the mere existence of magic when the child's Hogwarts letter arrived.

"It's a good start," said Percy, "but I think we should go further and remove those children from their muggle relatives. Look what became of Tom Riddle! It could have been avoided if he had been raised in the wizarding world."

To Harry's utter surprise Snape shook his head. "You cannot remove children from their families just because of what they are. There have been enough pureblood dark wizards in the past. Muggle upbringing has nothing to do with it. I have been raised among muggles and have not become a dark wizard. Potter hasn't either."

"Please don't take this as an offence, Professor," replied Percy, "but you yourself were a real death eater before you became a spy. Muggles had nothing to do with your refinement. And Merlin knows what would have become of Harry hadn't he become a member of a wizarding family the first minute he entered the wizarding world."

Harry opened his mouth to protest. Percy had always been his least favourite Weasley, but he'd never have supposed the other boy would go as far as suggest Harry could have turned out dark.

Surprisingly, Snape came to his aid. "You are right about me, but Harry would never have joined the dark side. How can you say that! You've known him for years!"

Percy blushed and hurried to apologize.

After a rich dessert of chocolate cake, fruit salad and ice cream – Harry had three helpings of ice cream – Mrs Weasley suggested the family go for a walk while she cleaned the kitchen. Snape refused to let her do all the work alone and insisted on staying behind to do the washing. Percy joined his mother and the potions master in the kitchen while the rest of the family, Hermione and Harry went to get their cloaks and boots.

Mr Weasley led the way towards the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry offered his arm to Ginny and they fell behind the group little by little. Ginny pulled the boy to a side-path towards a small copse and ten minutes later, they were finally alone.

Harry cast a quick warming spell on the small clearing they had entered and Ginny turned a rock into a comfortable couch. The girl sat and patted the spot beside her. Harry obeyed with a smile and pulled the redhead close.

The next few minutes were spent quietly, but busy. When Harry withdrew at last, he couldn't but notice that Ginny looked quite dishevelled. Good.

"Uhm, I know it is early, but I'd rather give this to you in private." The teenage hero produced the small parcel and held it out to his girlfriend.

Ginny accepted the gift with a brilliant smile. "Oh Harry!" she squealed when she uncovered the heart-shaped pendant and its golden chain. "That's beautiful!" She fell to the boy's neck and delivered her thanks via a passionate kiss.

Harry had no objections to a little more kissing and played along enthusiastically. They only parted when they heard Ron calling them from afar.

With a sigh, Ginny cancelled the spell that had transfigured the rock and Harry ended the warming spell.

"We're here, mate," called Harry after he had helped Ginny put on her present. Hand in hand they went to meet Ron and Hermione.

"Ah, there you are," grinned Ron. "What were you up to?"

Ginny blushed and Harry slapped his best friend playfully. "There are certain questions you should never ask, Ron." He laughed.

"Hey, remember we are talking about my little sister! If you misbehave you will have six big brothers after your hide." There was a short silence when Ron realised his slip of tongue. "Bloody hell, I still miss him so much," he muttered then.

"We all do," said Hermione softly and snuggled up to Ron in an attempt to comfort him.

Harry nodded. "That's right. And I'm sure, Fred would come and haunt me if I messed with Ginny, you got that quite right."

"Yes," mused Ron, "that's definitely something Fred would do, haunt you."

They all laughed sadly and then headed back to the Burrow.

Everybody was lounging in the living room with steaming cups of tea, cocoa and coffee. Snape was discussing with Charlie. Hogwarts needed a lot of potions ingredients and those coming from dragons were particularly hard to get.

Ginny sat down by her mother to show her her Christmas present. Mrs Weasley thanked Harry teary-eyed and urged Ginny to go and sit with him. The boy blushed and the Weasley men laughed good-naturedly.

They stayed up and chatted nearly until midnight. Fleur was the first one to get up to retire for the night. "Se babee needs se sleep," she explained. Bill got up to follow her and the others took that as a sign to go to bed, too.

"Severus, Harry, you don't mind taking the sofa, do you?" asked Mrs Weasley.

"Of course not, Molly. Thank you." Snape reassured their host. "Why don't you go to bed? Harry and I will make ourselves comfortable."

Snape conjured a screen to give them some privacy. Harry meanwhile opened the couch to turn it into a double bed. It was a bit narrow for two people as far as Harry was concerned, but having got to spend Christmas with Ginny was worth bivouacking with Snape for one night.

The potions master had different plans however. After one look at the couch-bed he waved his wand and conjured a cot beside the bed. "You sleep there!" Snape pointed at the cot.

Harry was ready to give the man a piece of his mind but before the first word left his mouth, he sighed. It would be ungrateful to quarrel with Snape now. After all the man had arranged for them to come to the Burrow after Harry had grudgingly accepted not to.

"Okay," Harry sat down on the cot resignedly, his back turned on Snape. "I've had worse." He lay down and rolled in a foetal position. To his utter surprise he was covered with a blanket a moment later. "That I'm not ready to snuggle with you, does not mean you have to freeze, Potter," snarled the older wizard.

"It's Snape," Harry replied sleepily.

-x-

The next morning, Harry and Snape returned the living room to its original state before the Weasleys got up. Everybody was up and about early. The family gathered around the tree and opened their presents.

Harry and Snape had to return to Hogwarts early for the official Christmas breakfast, but they were going to see the Weasleys soon enough since in the evening the Christmas ball was going to take place. Snape had decided that Hogwarts needed some merry traditions and a ball seemed like a good idea.

Before they stepped into the fireplace to return to Snape's office via floo, Harry reminded Ginny that he was looking forward to dancing with her. If he was honest with himself, he was looking forward to holding her in his arms rather than dancing with her, but that was not the point.

"Dancing, Potter?" Snape snorted when they were back at his office. "I remember the sorry performance of yours at the yule ball back in your fourth year. Tell me, when did you find time to take dancing lessons?"

Harry blushed. "Let's go for breakfast," he hissed through gritted teeth.

"Ah, so you didn't find time?" Snape had no problem to keep pace with the fleeing Gryffindor.

"No," shouted Harry, finally having had enough. "No, I had no time for dancing lessons with a madman after my hide! But that will not keep me from trying my best!"

"Harry," Snape replied softly, not rising to the bait, "the press will be present tonight!"

"So, what? Do you expect me to forgo dancing with my girlfriend? Or are you offering me lessons?" Harry snorted at the last.

Snape smirked. "Actually I could be talked into the latter."

"What?" Harry was dumbfounded.

"Listen," the older wizard pinched the bridge of his nose. "I want good press for Hogwarts. The ministry cut down our budget. There are even people who want to see the school closed down! I'm willing to work for this. If I have to teach you how to dance, so be it."

Harry sighed. "Look, I want to save Hogwarts, too. Let's go to breakfast now, yes?" He pulled the older wizard by his sleeve. They walked down the corridor in silence. It was only broken just before they entered the great hall. "When do you have time for those lessons?" Harry asked.

"After lunch; come to my office. – A very merry Christmas to you!" Snape beamed at the small assembly of witches and wizards who had gathered for breakfast. Snape beaming at people was a sight Harry was not used to – or anybody else for that matter – but it was not a bad one.

-x-

"After lunch" had sounded fine when Snape had suggested it, but it turned out difficult. Most of the students returned to Hogwarts for the ball and by lunch, every single eighth year was present. Harry had a hard time escaping them to go to the headmaster's office since he was not eager to have the fact that Snape of all people was going to teach him how to dance publicly known. As a result, he was a little late for his lesson.

"Potter, finally," snarled Snape when the Gryffindor entered his office. He pointed at the space he had created in front of the fireplace. A female house elf in an overly large table cloth stood there with hanging ears. The older wizard pointed his wand at a gramophone and soft music started to play.

"First, you put your hand on Silly's hip," Snape said in lecture mode. When the boy did not move he snarled: "What are you waiting for?"

"You want me to dance with a house elf?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Tell me you were not moronic enough to assume I would dance with you," Snape rolled his eyes.

The teenage hero swallowed hard.

"Ah, yes, I see," Snape mused dryly. "After the big success of our occlumency lessons you thought I couldn't wait to teach you as closely as possible. Really, Potter! Put your hands on her hips now."

"I'm not dancing with a house elf!"

"Prejudiced, Potter?"

"Nonsense," snarled Harry. "She's the wrong height, the wrong weight, Merlin, do you even know whether she knows how to dance?"

"Who cares?" Snape was growing impatient. "If you do this right, your partner is not required to know the steps. You have to take the lead, that's all there is to it."

"I want to dance with a girl! Why can't we ask Ginny here?"

"I will not deal out favours to students."

"You are ready to teach me! Why not her? What is different?"

"You," Snape waved his wand at the gramophone and stopped the music, "are my son. It's normal for a father to teach his son dancing. Silly, please ask Draco Malfoy to my office."

"What?" shrieked Harry as the elf disappeared with a crack. "I spent an hour trying to come here unnoticed and you call Malfoy here?"

"Of course. Draco is a pureblood. He has been taught certain social skills from a young age."

"He will make fun of me!"

"He will not. Now shut up. It's not as if you had a choice."

"I could refuse to go to the ball."

"I'm sure Ms Weasley would be thrilled to hear that." Snape grinned maliciously.

By the time Draco Malfoy turned up, Harry was beyond fidgety. He was shaking with fury. Draco didn't look happy either. By the looks of him, he had been halfway through his preparations for the ball when Silly had found him.

"What do you need?" the blond asked Snape.

Harry stopped to pace in front of the fireplace and glared at the two Slytherins angrily.

"I need your assistance in teaching Potter how to dance." Snape looked at Draco expectantly.

"Ah yes, I remember his performance at the yule ball. What is in it for me?"

Snape looked at the younger Slytherin calculatingly. "What do you want?"

"I want a dance with Granger."

"I have no control over who Granger will dance with."

"You don't, but maybe Potter can help. I'm sure he wouldn't want his lessons to be public knowledge."

"How do you expect me to make Hermione do what she doesn't want to do?"

"Tell her you're being blackmailed. I'm sure being the Gryffindor that she is she will be eager to help you."

"I will not help you hurt Hermione!" Harry insisted.

Draco made a noise of disapproval. "Who says I'm going to hurt her? I will admit I was quite angry when she ran back to the weasel, but I'm over it." He spread his arms with a laugh. "All I want is one last dance."

"Potter!" snarled Snape.

"I can ask her, but I can't guarantee that she'll agree." Harry said cautiously.

The blond nodded. "That's all I ask. So, what can I do for you two?" Two minutes later, he was pulling at the door. "I'm not going to do that! Not for one bloody dance. I wouldn't even consider it if you got her to agree to strip for me right on that dance floor."

"Draco, stop it! You're such a drama queen at times." Snape pointed his wand at the younger Slytherin and Draco's school robes turned into orange witches' robes.

The sight of his robes infuriated the blond further. "So it's not enough to dress me as a witch, it has to be a clown witch! When have you ever seen me in orange! It's such a common colour! And it does nothing for my complexion!"

A quick spell from Snape later, the robes were pink, which caused another fit from the blond. Lime green caused a similar reaction, as did a friendly sunny yellow.

"Merlin, Draco, how am I to know the ideal colour for witches' robes? You are not being helpful!"

"Light blue!" snarled the blond. "Light blue is my colour!"

Snape rolled his eyes and changed the robes. Next, he turned the gramophone on again.

"Well, Potter, put your hand on Malfoy's hip. Now!" Snape started the lesson.

Within five minutes Harry had forgotten that he had ever found Draco in a dress funny. Snape was a severe taskmaster at dancing as much as he had been at Potions; only that since these were not official lessons the man had conjured a stick, with which he prodded, shoved and hit Harry whenever he saw the need.

"Really, Potter," growled the headmaster, "how clumsy can one person be?" He ignored Harry's muttered correction of his name. "Your left foot! No, the other left!"

"Ouch!" cried Draco as Harry stepped on his foot again.

"Stop complaining, Malfoy, or I'll ask Snape to give you sandals."

"You wouldn't!"

"Your whole posture is wrong without heels."

"And that keeps you from telling left from right? Ouch!" This time, the stick had found its way on Draco's head.

"Stop babbling, we're not here for fun. Again, Potter, one, two, three, left, right, left. And then one, two, three, right, left, right. It's easy."

"Easy? Why is step one first left every other time and right in between?"

Snape sighed dramatically. "Because three is an odd number," chorused the two Slytherins.

Harry let go of the blond. "Then show me how it is done if you are so clever!"

"Perhaps a demonstration would be in order," conceded Snape.

Draco held out his arms resignedly. "Let's get it over with. I don't have all day." The blond allowed himself to be pulled close to Snape and the two Slytherins waltzed around the room in a whirl of black and powdery blue robes.

"This memory was worth the whole trouble," smirked Harry. "It's going to be one of my fondest."

Snape and Draco let go of each other as if they were burned. "Now you, Potter," Snape hissed dangerously. "And concentrate for once!"

After three excruciatingly arduous hours, Snape called a halt to the lessons. "It won't get any better today and you should be able to not make too much of a fool of yourself with what you learned. Go, get ready for the ball and comb your hair!"

Harry and Draco went to the East Tower together. "Don't forget to ask Granger for that dance for me," smirked the blond shortly before they reached the entrance to the eighth years' quarters. "Or else…" He left the threat unworded.

"How would you like me to make your waltz with Snape public knowledge?" Harry asked innocently.

The Slytherin laughed. "You wouldn't harm Daddy, would you?"

Harry cursed inwardly. Ridiculing Snape would be a poor way to pay his life debt. "I'll ask her," he sighed tiredly.

-x-

"Where have you been?" Hermione interrupted her work on Ron's dress robes. Most of the laces were already gone.

"Uhm, it's kind of a secret," muttered Harry.

Ron chuckled. "Mate, we spent half a year in a tent together. There are no secrets between us."

Harry ruffled up his hair self-consciously. There was no way to avoid telling them if he wanted to ask Hermione to dance with Malfoy. "Promise not to laugh."

Ron laughed and moved his index finger crosswise over his heart. "Big word of honour, Harry." Hermione laughed and mirrored the gesture.

Harry swallowed hard before he revealed his secret. "Snape and Malfoy taught me how to dance."

Ron and Hermione rolled with laughter. Ron's face became so red, Harry feared he was going to suffocate. "Sorry," the redhead panted when he had recovered a bit. "I thought you said you had dancing lessons with Snape and Malfoy."

"That was what I actually said," Harry hissed through gritted teeth. "Snape wanted me to look good at the ball. You know, reputation and all."

"I can see Snape wanting that," admitted Hermione, "but why would Malfoy help you?"

"Snape made him." Harry fidgeted nervously. "And I promised…" He hesitated.

"You promised…," Ron repeated and looked at his best friend expectantly. "What?"

"IpromisedtoaskHermionetodanc ewithhim." There. He had said it.

"Sorry, that was too quick." Hermione smiled at Harry.

Harry took some steps to the side, away from Ron. "I promised to ask Hermione to dance with him," the teenage hero repeated. He reached for his wand cautiously.

"What?" screeched Ron. "How dare you promise such a thing!"

"I did not promise she was going to agree!" Harry took another step back defensively.

"Oh!" Ron calmed down immediately. "Then it's no problem. Hermione refuses."

"Excuse me? That's my decision!" Hermione glared at Ron angrily.

"What is there to decide?" Ron sounded offended.

"Well, one dance can't hurt, can it?" Hermione said innocently.

Ron turned red again. "I can't believe you said that! It would hurt ME! I won't have my girlfriend dance with an ex-deatheater!"

yyy

Hermione fell to his neck with a small squeal of delight. "You are so sweet when you're jealous!" She kissed Ron passionately and the redhead returned the gesture with equal enthusiasm.

Harry blushed. "Go, find yourselves an empty classroom!" he cried. "I need to get dressed for the ball."

Ron chuckled into Hermione's mouth. He withdrew just enough to be able to speak. "We spent half a year in a tent together. There are no secrets between us." He and Hermione both laughed.

"Leave Harry alone," giggled Hermione as she pulled her boyfriend to the door by his sleeve.

At six sharp, Harry gave the password to Gryffindor tower to the fat lady. He was carrying a single scarlet rose and more nervous that he had thought possible. For Merlin's sake, he had faced a dark wizard, had even let him kill him, why was it so difficult to pick up his girlfriend for a ball?

The assembled first and second years – only fourth years or higher were allowed to the ball – stared at the wizarding hero curiously. True, Harry and Ginny had never been secretive about their relationship, but as far as Harry was concerned, he never saw much of the younger students apart from lessons. It was quite possible that Harry Potter's – Snape! – involvement with Ginny Weasley was new to them.

Luckily he did not have to stand the staring very long. Ginny arrived a minute or two after Harry had entered the common room.

"You look stunning tonight!" Harry complimented the girl instead of a greeting and really, Ginny looked like a muggle fairy. She wore robes of a light green. The fabric was so light, it floated around her. The long red hair was mostly gathered in a knot on top of her head but for some strands that fell loosely over her shoulders onto her back. The only jewellery Ginny wore was the heart pendant Harry had given her for Christmas.

Harry handed Ginny the rose.

"Mmh," Ginny buried her nose in the bloom for a moment before she removed the stem and attached the flower to her hair. "Thank you for the rose. It was exactly what was missing. You look good, too, tonight."

They made their way down to the great hall arm in arm. Like for the yule ball, the house tables had been replaced by small round tables. Harry led the way to Snape's table. He was surprised that not all the teachers were seated there. Instead, the faculty was seated on various tables, never more than two teachers seated together.

At Snape's table, the headmaster was the only faculty member. Apart from Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, Draco and Pansy were the students seated there. The other chairs were taken by a curly blonde witch, who seemed to be Snape's date for the evening, Kingsley Shacklebolt and his wife and to Harry's utter surprise, Rita Skeeter, who had brought her photographer as a date.

The next table was occupied by a group of students, mixed from all four houses, Professor McGonagall and the Malfoys. A little down the aisle, Horace Slughorn was dining with Oliver Wood – he had brought a witch whom Harry didn't recognise since he only saw her back – and Baldur Wallace, the mayor of Hogsmeade and his wife.

At 6:30 Snape rose from his seat and tapped his knife against his goblet.

"My dear guests," he said when the talking had died down, "welcome to the first Hogwarts Christmas Ball. After the losses the wizarding world – and this school more than everybody else – has suffered over these past years by the hand of the Dark Lord, it is time to look ahead and celebrate the future. We will never cease to mourn our lost loved ones but remember that they'd want us to be happy. So on their behalf, let us celebrate life tonight. Enjoy the feast!"

After a warm round of applause, Snape sat and tapped his plate with his wand. Everybody mirrored the action and soon the assembled witches and wizards were absorbed in a wonderful meal.

When the last crumb of cake had been cleaned away, Snape raised his wand again and the small tables moved to make room for a dance floor. Suddenly, Harry was nervous again. This was what he had been training for after all.

The Gryffindor hero was glad that Snape had been so uncompromisingly strict earlier the moment he led Ginny to the dance floor to open the dance. Snape had made a small speech again, informing the press that he wished his son, the Boy Who Freed Us All, to do the honours and open the fun part of the evening.

Ginny smiled graciously in the direction of the cameras as she followed Harry. Her eyes widened in pleasant surprise when Harry whirled her around like Snape had taught him.

"Harry, you are a really quick learner," she whispered.

Harry smile back at the girl. "So you approve of my new abilities?" he asked.

"Very much so," Ginny laughed. A few moments later, Snape signalled for the others to join the couple and soon the dance floor was so crowded that it would not have mattered had Harry not know how to dance.

Unlike the yule ball some years earlier, Harry spent most of the evening dancing. It was wonderful to hold Ginny in his arms in public and thus tell the world "Look, this gorgeous woman is mine!"

The dance went on until the small hours. Most of the reporters had left around midnight to get their stories into the morning edition of their papers, for which most of the guests were grateful, but some indefatigables were holding out, hoping to get the one sensational story that would boost their career.

They got their wish when the ball was almost over. Somehow, Hermione Granger felt obliged to grant Draco Malfoy his wish for one dance. Ronald Weasley, who had not had the benefit of dancing lessons, had nothing against it since he hated dancing and his feet hurt already from those few dances he had taken upon himself for his girlfriend's sake.

Draco looked as neat as a new pin in spite of the hours he had spent dancing with various girls.

"You look stunning tonight," he complemented the unsuspecting Gryffindor as he whirled her closer towards the corner where the reporters lurked.

Hermione smiled happily. "I'm glad that we remained friends, Draco," she said, "you know, after I reconciled with Ron."

"So am I," the blond smiled back brilliantly. The smile disappeared from his face an instant later, when they were near enough for the press to catch every word, but not so near to give the impression anything had been staged. "How dare you!" Draco hissed loud enough for the reporters to hear. "Were you after my money all the time? Were you sleeping with Weasley behind my back from the start? I thought it was a lie when they printed you had a marked preference for rich and famous wizards back in our fourth year. I told myself you were not that kind of girl! But it seems I was very much mistaken! You trollop! Just tell me one more thing before I never talk to you again! How often did you get up from my bed to slip into his? How did you explain my scent all over you? Or did he know?" Draco raised his voice masterfully towards the end of his rant. By the time he was finished, the band had stopped to play and everybody was craning their neck to see what was going on.

An irate Ron Weasley was storming towards his girlfriend and the blond. Hermione was in tears. The press photographer's cameras flashed again and again.

"How dare you imply Hermione ever behaved other than honourably, Malfoy!" the redhead screamed. He punched the blond on the nose without further warning.

"Aaaaargh!" Draco cried out in pain. Blood ran from his nose and stained his otherwise immaculate dress robes. "I can see how this brawler is more your league than I!" he cried.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Weasley! And another twenty from Slytherin, Malfoy!" Snape thundered as he rushed to the two boys. "How dare you behave so commonly!" The headmaster grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him from the dance floor. Harry and Ginny took care of Ron and Hermione.

When Harry lay in bed several hours later – Ron had tried repeatedly to go and strangle Malfoy in his sleep – he thought that he hadn't needed to learn how to dance. After the ruckus Draco had caused, nobody would have cared whether the Boy Who Lived knew how to dance.

-x-

Although the sun had been already high in the sky when Harry went to bed and he slept several hours, he was among the first to come down to breakfast, or rather lunch. The only others already there were Snape and McGonagall. The house tables were still absent and the two teachers were seated at one of the round tables. Snape waved Harry to join them.

"How bad is it?" Harry asked when he sat beside the headmaster.

"It could hardly be worse," sighed Snape. "They make Hogwarts look like Gomorrah. So far, it's only over the Prophet front page, but I guess the others will follow suit by tea time."

McGonagall handed Harry a crumpled copy of the wizarding world's most important paper.

**Scandal at Hogwarts! **

The headline took up a good third of the page. Below it were two moving pictures, one of a bleeding Draco Malfoy being led away by Snape and one of Harry wrestling Ron away from the blond.

The next page was taken up by a lengthy article about how Snape had been working to restore Hogwarts' high standards after the war and how his work had been destroyed by one Hermione Granger, who – according to the article – was looking for a powerful, wealthy, preferably famous husband. In the course of that search she had broken the heart of many young wizards, dumping one when she found a more famous one. An anonymous source – Harry was sure it was one of Draco's friends acting on the blonde's behalf – claimed that Hermione was ready to do ANYthing to win a boy over.

"Hermione will be livid. You better watch out or she will hex Malfoy," sighed Harry. "He destroyed her reputation. The whole wizarding world will think she's a…" The teenage hero blushed.

"Trollop?" offered McGonagall. Harry nodded mutely. "Knowing Ms Granger, I agree. We have to be careful." The witch looked at the headmaster questioningly.

Snape nodded. "I'll make sure to tell Mr Malfoy to watch his back."

Harry snorted. "That won't be enough. – What else do they say?" He turned the page and paled.

The next page was entirely dedicated to Snape's incompetence to lead a school and the question whether the trouble should have been expected with a man of dubious morals as headmaster.

"This is completely unfair!" cried Harry as he scanned a detailed account of Snape's former allegiance to a wizard not named. Of course they had forgotten to mention Snape's spying. "They make it sound as if your hold on the headmaster job is the last of Voldemort's curses that is still in place!"

"They suggest I sacrifice virgins every full moon to keep the job on page 12." Snape sounded emotionless, but by now Harry knew the man well enough to recognize the subtle hint of hurt in his voice. "They also suggest that you hand me the dagger when I do it."

"What?" shrieked Harry.

Snape shook his head. "I have to apologise. I asked to adopt you to further my reputation, but instead I destroyed yours." He bowed respectfully.

"Nonsense!" Harry cried with determination. "They won't get away with that! They cannot insult two war heroes like that and get away with it!"

Snape raised a brow. "What can we do about it?"

Ten minutes later – the way down to the gates was long enough to fill in Snape on Harry's plan – Harry Potter stormed into the editorial office of the Daily Prophet with one Severus Snape on his heel.

"Harry!" cried Snape, "I beg you! Calm down!"

"I am calm!" screamed Harry. He brandished his wand. Colourful sparks rained down on the desks he was passing. His robes swirled around him as if moved by a constant whirlwind of magic. The Man Who Freed Us All looked distraught, even a bit mad. "I'm just tired of it and I will not sit back and let them insult everything I worked for!"

"Mr Potter," the editor, an elderly wizard with silver-rimmed glasses, cried. He extended his hand in greeting as he hurried to meet the enraged wizard.

"There!" shouted Harry. "They don't even know my name! It's Snape, you useless excuse for a wizard!"

"Harry!" cried Snape. He had caught up to the younger man. "Calm down!" He signalled to the reporters to leave, but of course nobody obeyed. Instead, they gripped their quills tightly.

"Leave me alone!" Harry tried to shake Snape off. "They can't do that!"

"Harry, these people are not evil. This time you will not get away if you kill somebody in your tantrum!"

"What are you talking about?" asked a blonde reporter. "Whom did he kill?"

"Why, Voldemort of course. Who else?"

"He killed Voldemort in a tantrum?"

"Yes, his irascibility is dreadful. Voldemort should not have annoyed him."

Meanwhile Harry was chasing the editor around the room with minor stinging hexes aimed at his backside. Snape tried to wrestle the wand from the teenager.

"Leave me alone!" Harry cried and pulled free from Snape's grip. "I'll make them pay for insulting all your hard work. There!" At the other side of the room an aquarium exploded.

"If you have to kill their goldfish, at least collect them for potions!" Snape conjured a bucket of water and started collecting the fish, which were flapping in a useless attempt to get back into the water.

"I was not after the goldfish!" The aquarium was restored with a nonverbal spell and Snape put the fish back in it. Nearby, a stack of parchment combusted spontaneously. The witch sitting at the desk in question shrieked like a banshee. Snape cast Aguamenti to put out the fire. The witch spluttered when the water hit her.

"After all the sacrifices we made and all we achieved, they dare smudge our reputation. I ask you! Who in their right mind makes a special edition of a teenage lovers' fight? They are worse than Voldemort!"

"Harry!" Snape lunged at the teenage hero when all the window panes started to rattle and shake. "Stop it before somebody gets hurt! I'll buy you an ice-cream!"

"Can I have strawberry?" Harry stopped in his tracks and faced Snape.

"Of course, son."

"Good." Harry pocketed his wand. "I can punish them later. It's not as if they could escape. I hunted down that other madman, didn't I?" He beamed at the potions master.

"I guess they can't," confirmed Snape. He ushered Harry towards the exit with relief written all over his face. They had just reached the door when Harry turned around.

"Wait!" he cried. "If I just curse the paper, I don't have to come back!"

"What curse have you been thinking of?"

Harry grinned. "I bet you won't guess." He pulled Snape outside. Before the door closed on them, the boy wizard sent another spray of sparks into the room. "Now hurry before strawberry is sold out."

"That was not very refined," Snape pointed out when they sat at Fortescue's a little later.

Harry snorted. The ice cream in front of him was huge. "Refined? They would not recognise refined if it bit them into their behind."

"Anyway, thank you for doing that for me." Snape smiled awkwardly. Harry wondered how many people had ever thrown a tantrum on Snape's behalf.

"You know that they will be badmouthing you next," Snape continued. "Tell the public that you are unstable and such."

Harry shrugged and spooned some more whipped cream into his mouth. "You know," he brandished his spoon and started when he realised that he had splattered cream on Snape's nose, but the older wizard just wiped it off with his finger, "what makes me really angry is that those people hold so much power! The public listens to them! Everybody knows that our world needs a lot of effort to heal after the war, but do they put their power to that use? Do they tell the public where to join forces to make things better? No, they use their influence to destroy what little has been achieved. I just don't understand why they can't help and later lean back and say 'See, we did that!' It's so annoying!"

"Nevertheless," Snape examined a nut in his ice cream as if it was the most precious potion ingredient he had ever seen, "you should not have threatened them. Losing your reputation won't help."

Harry shrugged again. "You are more important for Hogwarts than I. We can't afford to lose Hogwarts. With the children safe in the castle, people have time to rebuild our world."

They finished their ice creams in silence and then returned to the school. At the next table, a curly blonde picked up her quick quotes quill from its hidden spot on a chair and shoved it back into her handbag.

-x-

Harry and Snape were congratulating each other on the way up from the gates to the castle for their successful performance at Fortescue's, but the moment they entered the castle, their mood dropped.

"What happened here?" roared Snape. There was a quite impressing burn hole in the newly restored stone floor of the entrance hall.

"Severus!" McGonagall came rushing towards them, "I'm so glad you are here, and Mr Potter!"

"What has been going on?" Snape hissed impatiently.

"Well," the witch made a face, "basically Ms Granger is after Draco Malfoy's hide, literally. She has chased him through half the castle. That hole is the only serious damage to the castle though. I sent the students to their houses. The fighting cocks are in the Great Hall. Mr Weasley is up at the hospital wing. He was hit by a spell intended for Mr Malfoy."

"I can try and talk to Hermione," offered Harry.

Snape ignored him and went to the door, his wand held in front of him. "If you wish to remain students of this school, surrender your wands this moment!" he snarled angrily.

"I will surrender my wand when I've got me revenge over that ferret!" answered Hermione, her voice an octave higher than usual. "He will not go unpunished!"

"It's not your place to punish students of this school, Ms Granger!" Snape pointed at the corridor leading to the side entrance with his free hand, hidden from Hermione's view by the heavy oak door.

"Somebody has to stop her!" whined Draco Malfoy from the other side of the great hall.

"Stay where you are, Malfoy," ordered Snape. "You should have thought about her reaction when you ruined her reputation! How very un-Slytherin of you! Didn't you learn anything, Draco?"

"It was a very Slytherin plan," cried Draco, sounding offended. "I thought when nobody else wanted her, she would return to me!"

"You have strange ways of wooing a girl," Snape pointed out.

The blond snorted. "I wanted her to return to me so that I could dump her! Malfoys dump, but are not dumped!"

Hermione roared with rage, but the roar turned into a shriek.

"You can come out, Malfoy," Harry announced calmly. "I've got her wand."

"Are you sure?" Draco sounded scared.

Harry chuckled. "As sure as I can be."

The blond came out of his hiding place behind one of the small tables. Hermione must have gone after him while he was at breakfast. His robes were soiled with egg yolk and milk, but what stood out most prominently, were several burn holes.

The moment the young Slytherin showed himself, Hermione lunged at him with surprising speed. Before Harry or Snape could react, she had wrapped her hands around Draco's throat. Harry was the faster of the two to come to the blond's aid.

"Stop it, Hermione!" he snarled while he tried to get his friend to let go without hurting her. Draco's face was an unhealthy red.

"Ms Granger," Snape barked from the other door, "if you wish to continue your education at this school, let go of Mr Malfoy this instant!"

"Did you see the newspapers?" cried Hermione, but she obeyed. "He ruined my reputation!"

"Welcome to the club," snapped Snape. "As you see, living with a ruined reputation is not the end of the world."

"But," Hermione was not ready to accept Snape drawing parallels between her and him, "you adopted Harry to improve your standing. What do you suggest I do? Adopt you?"

"I doubt that would help," sneered Snape. "The only thing I can think of is marry Mr Malfoy."

"Certainly not!" cried Draco.

Hermione thought about it. "As much as I hate to admit it, you have a point. Malfoy, I insist you marry me!"

"Are you crazy? My father would kill me!"

"Hm, yes, being your widow would help," nodded Hermione. "That's acceptable."

"No!" roared Draco. "I will not marry you!"

"Mr Malfoy," Snape said earnestly, "didn't your mother teach you anything? You get a girl in trouble, you marry her."

"That rule is not about this kind of trouble!" cried Draco.

"The rule says trouble, it doesn't specify which kind thereof. If Miss Granger's ruined reputation doesn't count as trouble, then I don't know. Shall I notify your parents, Draco? I'm sure your mother wishes to be present at your wedding."

"What?" spluttered the Malfoy heir. "When do you want me to marry her? Now?"

"Well, rather sooner than later," nodded Snape. "This scandal needs to be cleared. Flippy!" A small elf popped into existence. "Flippy, kindly go to Malfoy Manor and ask the master and lady of the house to come to Hogwarts as quickly as possible." The elf bowed and disappeared.

McGonagall had already started to transfigure the decoration from the ball into white garlands. Christmas trees became huge bouquets of white flowers and a tiny cupid fluttered around, sending arrows at Hermione and Draco in turn. "I think we can leave the tables. What do you think, Severus?"

"I agree. Will you finish the decorations? Then I will inform the press. We can do with some positive headlines." Snape actually smiled.

"I don't want to marry her!" insisted Draco. "My parents will kill me! And come to think of it, they will kill her, too!"

"Hm, that may prove to be an obstacle," admitted Snape. "Somehow we have to blackmail Lucius into not doing it while the press is present."

"How about into blackmailing him into not killing me at all?" asked Hermione.

"Why would I kill you?" – "Why would he kill you?"

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, along with Ronald Weasley, had reached the Great Hall just in time to hear the girl's last question.

"Ah, Lucius, that was quick! I'm sure you read the morning paper. Your son ruined Ms Granger's reputation and the only honourable way to correct that wrong is that he marry her. I assumed you want to be present for your sons wedding."

The Malfoys both paled, but Ron Weasley went crimson with anger.

"What a fine plan, Malfoy, but I assure you that you will not be allowed to trick Hermione into marriage. If somebody marries her, it will be me! She's my girlfriend, not yours!"

"That's acceptable," Lucius hurried to say.

"No it is not!" cried McGonagall. "It would seem like Mr Weasley married her out of pity and her reputation would stay soiled. The only way to repair the damage is Draco to marry her."

"I won't allow it!" cried Ron. "I will challenge him in a wizards' duel, if I must!"

"Oh Ron!" squealed Hermione. "You would do that for me?" She fell on the redhead's neck.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley!" interfered Snape. "Draco could skin you alive with one hand tied to his back!"

Ron glared at the potions master over his girlfriend's shoulder. "I do know a bit about duelling," he insisted.

Snape and Lucius both snorted. "Draco was trained by deatheaters, Weasley," Snape pointed out. "He knows curses you never heard of."

"I knew he was dark," growled Ron. "I will not allow that he marries Hermione!"

"It's not your place to allow or forbid that union," sneered Lucius. "I offer to organise the wedding."

"You have nothing against your son marrying a muggleborn?" Snape was taken aback; he had been sure that Lucius would forbid it.

"I'd not welcome any muggleborn in the family, but Ms Granger has a reputation of power and learning. She will be a fine addition to the Malfoy line. Draco's marriage to her will prove to the public that the Malfoy family was never truly in league with the Dark Lord." Lucius looked smug.

"He will not touch her!" Ron cried again. "I challenge you, Malfoy!"

"I will not tolerate bloodshed in this school!" Snape looked at Harry and McGonagall for help.

"Will you stick to your challenge when I step in as my son's second, boy?" Lucius looked at Ron threateningly. The redhead swallowed hard, but nodded. "I won't give up Hermione without a fight."

"No, Ron!" cried Hermione. "He's a deatheater! He'll kill you!" She looked around frantically. "Somebody has to stop them!"

"Mr Weasley, you have to be aware that you have the right to name a second, too." Snape said calmly. He gripped his wand hard, ready to step in for his student.

Ron beamed. "Harry, would you do that for me?"

The headmaster wanted to bang his head on the wall. Instead of getting one of his students out of a dangerous situation, he had placed the Man Who Won right in the line of fire!

Being a true Gryffindor, Harry smiled. "Well, Mr Malfoy, are you ready to face the man who killed your lord to win a muggleborn bride for your son?" He raised his wand.

Before Lucius could answer, a voice interfered from the door. "How exciting! I came to ask for an interview with the headmaster, but this is so much better!" The blonde reporter from Fortescues walked in. She reminded Harry of a young Rita Skeeter, but her robes were less gaudy and her lipstick a soft pink instead of crimson. "Gloria Gainsy, Daily Prophet." The woman extended her hand to Snape. "I made an appointment with your deputy, but nobody was at the gates, so I took the liberty to come up to the castle unguided. – So, will we see a duel between Harry Snape and Lucius Malfoy?"

Lucius smirked. "If my son desires this girl as his bride I will do what it takes to indulge him. I'd regret if I had to kill off the man so many are looking up to and I'd rather Mr Weasley had named a different second, somebody not so important for the wizarding world, but if it can't be helped…" He raised his wand mirroring Harry's gesture.

"Weasley," Snape snarled, "I meant to suggest that I stand as your second, not Harry!"

"No, leave it. I'll gladly do that for my best mate." Harry laid a hand on Snape's arm soothingly.

"A battle of former deatheaters could be extremely interesting." The reporter looked from one wizard to the other expectantly.

"I forbid it!" Snape glared at Harry. Losing the Boy Who Lived in a duel would not do his reputation any good. "I insist I second for Mr Weasley. It's my duty as headmaster."

"You two could duel for the honour to face me," Lucius suggested maliciously.

"You must be excited to have so many powerful wizards fighting over you," Ms Gainsy whispered to Hermione.

"They wouldn't fight if you hadn't written that poor article to ruin my reputation!" the Gryffindor hissed angrily.

"Ah, no! That's a misunderstanding! I was not behind that article. That was Rita. When she heard that you were involved, she insisted to do the honours."

"That little cockroach!" spat Hermione.

Gloria Gainsy chuckled. "You must mean 'beetle'. We were all so surprised when she came out after the war. For years, we had been asking ourselves how she managed to get the best stories all the time! – Now, who will duel?"

"I will!" Five wizards answered the question in unison.

"I really think," Minerva McGonagall interfered, "that those involved should take care of the matter themselves."

"Who wants to read about a duel between Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy?" pouted the reporter. "That doesn't make a good story."

"Excuse me?" Hermione raged at the blonde. "We are talking about my life here! These wizards are about to hex each other because of some stupid article your paper published! I don't want to marry any of them, at least not at the moment, but thanks to you lot, I'll have to in order to save my reputation!"

The reporter looked taken aback and for a moment it seemed as if she wanted to retort, but then she relaxed. "This whole mess is not good for the wizarding world," she said. "If you don't want to marry, you shouldn't have to. I can write an article about how the whole incident was a plan to win you back gone awry. We really have more important things to do than duels."

"That's the right attitude, Ms Gainsy," beamed Harry. "Since you are here, may I ask your assistance with a little project headmaster Snape and I have been planning?"

"What project?" The reporter's eyes shone with curiosity.

"Why don't we have a cup of tea at my office and talk about it?" asked Snape. "Lucius, would you come along? I think your presence could be helpful. – Minerva, I trust you will be able to handle the eighth years?" Once the deputy headmistress had confirmed, he ushered Lucius, Gloria Gainsy and Harry up to his office.


	4. Chapter 4

"What are the plans you wish to discuss?" Lucius asked as soon as the door had closed on the small group. Snape stepped behind his desk to fetch a roll of parchment he had prepared. The blond wizard followed his every move with the determination of a hunting hawk.

"Why don't we sit down and let the headmaster explain his plans over a cup of tea?" Harry stepped in. Braver people than Snape – not that he knew many – would have become fidgety under Lucius's gaze.

"Of course," Snape agreed. "Harry, why don't you pour the tea while I get the papers?" He smiled weakly at the teenage hero. Harry did as he was asked and ushered Lucius and the reporter to the small coffee table in front of the fireplace.

"Has he woken up yet?" Gloria Gainsy asked with a glance at Dumbledore's portrait, which gently snored in its frame above said fireplace.

"Yes," Harry smiled. "I talked to him on several occasions. He never speaks much though; we merely exchanged some small talk."

"What a pity," the witch crossed her legs elegantly, revealing a crimson high-heeled shoe. "I'm sure he could help the wizarding world a lot with his advice."

Snape joined them and sat in the last free armchair. "He helped with some advice during the war." The man accepted a cup from Harry with a small smile. "But it was exhausting for him, since it was so soon."

"Your plans!" Lucius reminded his former co-deatheater before he could elaborate.

The reporter opened her mouth to protest, but she closed it when the blond wizard glared at her. She looked up at the portrait longingly before she turned to Snape to learn about his plans.

"As you know," started the headmaster, "we have more students here than ever before. Many of them lost their families in the war. I – we – ," he looked at Harry pointedly, " are worried about a group of nine. Those children are muggleborn orphans."

"There have always been muggleborn orphans," interrupted Lucius. "Potter himself was barely in a different situation."

"It's different," Snape insisted sternly. He shot the blond wizard a glare that would have sent most students running, but Lucius was not impressed. "Harry did not know about the magical world and the war that had cost him his parents. The truth was revealed to him little by little, but these children know that the magical world lost them their families. If we just drop them off at their muggle relatives' for the holidays, they will have no reason to regain the trust in our world they surely have lost last year."

"What can we do to help?" asked Gloria.

"We thought they should have magical guardians." Snape leaned back in his seat and looked at his guests expectantly.

"What do you expect of a magical guardian?" asked the witch.

This time Harry answered the question. "We want the magical guardian to spend at least part of the holidays with their charge and to keep in touch with the muggle family. Those people need to understand what happened to the children and their families. They have to see that what happened is not the children's fault and that the wizarding world is healing and can be trusted with the children."

The witch nodded. "This sounds reasonable. Have you already found guardians?"

"This is where I hope you will come in, Miss Gainsy," admitted Snape. "If you wrote about the project, people would volunteer."

"I volunteered to be the guardian of the youngest child," Harry added. "I spoke with Dad about it and we agree that we need a bit of an age difference, so there's not really a choice which child I can take."

Gloria looked deep in thought. "You could grant me an interview about the project. Stories about the Man Who Killed Him always sell well. Your project may even make the front page."

"And what would my part be in your scheme?" Lucius made himself heard for the first time since Snape had explained his plans.

Harry smiled brilliantly at the former deatheater. "We want you as a guardian, of course. Can't you see what a signal that will be to the magical world? Wizardkind unites for the good cause."

"I can see that," the blond wizard drawled. "I guess I'm willing to do it if I get to choose the child."

Harry and Snape exchanged a glance. "That can be arranged," said the headmaster.

"Wonderful!" cried Gloria. "We can make this a big story with Harry and Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy involved. Give me a day to talk to some people."

The small group agreed to meet again in a week. That way, Gloria had more time to talk to her editor and Lucius pointed out that, given enough time, he would be able to get another volunteer or two. Since the next holidays were only at Easter, they could afford to take a little time.

Once Harry was back at the East Tower, Hermione, Ron and Draco cornered him and he had to tell them what they had discussed at the headmaster's office. In return, Hermione informed him how McGonagall had threatened to hex Ron and Draco personally if they didn't work out how to get along. As a result they had agreed on a truce since neither of them was brave (Ron) or stupid (Draco) enough to face a furious Head of Gryffindor.

The next week was spent teaching and studying. It was so normal that Harry thought it could not be true. He actually started to feel like a student again. He had breakfast with Snape thrice, but apart from that his life didn't differ from any other student's. It was clear that this could not be permanent but the Man Everybody Looked Up To would certainly not waste the chance to be normal for a little while. Harry enjoyed.

The following Sunday found Snape's office crowded with people. The headmaster was busy handing out cups of tea and conjuring chairs while his guests eyed each other suspiciously or exchanged the latest gossip.

Harry had brought Arthur Weasley, who had volunteered to become a guardian immediately when he heard about the project. Lucius Malfoy had brought a wizard who was a little younger than he was. The man whose name had yet to be revealed was smaller than the blonde wizard, but of heavy build. His hair was a bluish black and he sported a small moustache. Gloria had Rita Skeeter with her. The older witch looked at Harry from time to time. Harry thought she looked a bit scared.

The last guests were Madame Rosmerta and Aberforth Dumbledore, whom Snape must have invited. Harry glared at the headmaster. Was it asked too much, to be informed about things beforehand? He was working hard to help the man after all! Even if he was forced into this by a life debt, he deserved a little respect!

Harry was surprised when he realised that he would have helped with this project without the life debt, too. Snape's plan was reasonable and a good thing for the students involved. There was no force or coaxing needed to get Harry's help. The teenager coughed to cover the little yelp of surprise that escaped him before he could catch himself.

"I see we have already several volunteers," said Snape when everybody had tea and a seat. He summoned a muggle clipboard from his desk. "May I assume that everybody present is informed about what we want to do?" He only continued when he had got nods of confirmation from every single witch and wizard present. "We have nine children who need guardians. Eight of them are still free; the youngest got assigned to Harry."

"Why does Potter get to choose first?" asked Rita.

Arthur Weasley and Aberforth Dumbledore glared at the reporter angrily, but Snape calmed them with a raised hand. "It's a question of age. I'm sure you agree that it would not be wise to assign a youth a guardian who is barely older than he or she. We have only one orphaned first year without magical relatives. Therefore Harry gets Miranda Smith as a ward."

Harry stifled a sigh. He had hoped that the child in question was a boy. He was not very good with girls.

"May I first ask who of the people present agree to become guardians?" Snape continued, oblivious of Harry's unease. Arthur Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, his friend, Aberforth Dumbledore and Rita Skeeter raised a hand. "Five more? Excellent!" cried the potions master. "That's more than I dared hope for."

"Do you really think it's a good idea to give Rita Skeeter influence over an impressionable child?" Harry interrupted.

"I could be very helpful to a child," the blonde witch defended herself.

"What is in it for you?" Harry snapped. He had never seen Rita do anything that did not serve her own purposes.

The reporter smiled. "Since Gloria here got the story about the project at large, I thought I could write a report about the time I spend with my charge. I'm sure our readers would be eager to hear how the project goes once it's under way."

The teenage hero glared at the witch angrily. "You will not exploit an orphan! Do something, Snape!"

The headmaster smiled (it looked a bit strained since he was not used to it). "Miss Skeeter will be guardian of Bertram Morris."

Harry huffed, but calmed down at a small sign from Snape. He made a mental note to ask the older wizard why he thought Bertram Morris could handle Rita Skeeter later.

It was easy to find charges for Arthur Weasley and Aberforth Dumbledore. They both smiled kindly and stated they were ready to help any kid Snape needed them to. Lucius Malfoy's friend, Aramis Greengrass, was easily satisfied, too, only Lucius had several stipulations for his charge.

He wanted a Slytherin boy, who in spite of being muggleborn knew about pureblood customs.

"I'm sorry, Lucius," said Snape. "The only Slytherin I had is already taken. Mr Morris will be Ms Skeeter's responsibility. I have one boy left, a Hufflepuff. There are two Ravenclaw girls and a Gryffindor girl."

"I suggest you take the youngest," said Mr Greengrass soothingly. "They are easier to influence. You could achieve a lot with a young child."

"Which one is the youngest?" asked the blond wizard.

Harry nearly choked on his tea because of the face Lucius made when he learned that the youngest girl was a fourth year Gryffindor, Edith Ironbank. It turned out, though, that the older Malfoy was not one to back away from challenges. Ms Ironbank was certainly in for an interesting time.

-x-

Once Snape had Gloria and Rita on his side for his magical orphan project, Harry had surprisingly little to do with it. He did not mind. There was more than enough to do if he wanted to pass his NEWTs in less than six months time. He had also fallen behind with his Defence lessons for the lower years and there had been too little time he was able to spend with Ginny.

Harry decided to catch up on the last first. He got Snape's permission to take Ginny to Hogsmeade (which the headmaster granted grudgingly) and walked her down to the Three Broomsticks on Wednesday afternoon with happy smiles plastered to both their faces.

"I felt a little neglected," Ginny informed her boyfriend. "I know that you have important things to do with Snape insisting on that life debt and I will admit that that orphan project is a good thing, but nevertheless…"

"I missed you, too," Harry squeezed the hand he was holding. "I had high hopes for this school year. It's our last together and whatever career we both choose we won't live that closely for a while. Things will get even more complicated next year."

"It doesn't have to," Ginny pointed out.

Harry smiled. "It has to. You know that your mother would skin me alive if we lived together without getting married first and I really don't think that either of us is old enough for that. I don't want you to wake up in five years and realise that you don't want me."

"That won't happen," Ginny reassured him. "But you are right. Mum would skin you alive."

Harry registered that she didn't agree aloud with them being too young to get married, but was wise enough to drop the topic. They had reached the first houses of the magical village and there were other things than plans for the future to discuss.

Dinner with Ginny at the Three Broomsticks was the memory Harry clung to for the next weeks whenever things became desperate. With their NEWTs drawing closer, the teachers seemed to think they hadn't learned anything yet and tried to press seven years worth of education into a month. Harry spent every waking moment studying and he even caught himself practice spells in his dreams more than once. (His favourite dream of that sort was the one where he practiced disrobing charms with Ginny. It left him thinking that it was a lucky thing that Molly Weasley had no access to his dreams.)

The routine life had settled into was only interrupted by an interview Harry had to give Gloria Gainsy for the orphan project. By the end of February, Snape announced proudly that they had found the missing guardians. Alonso Flourish from Flourish and Blott's, Mercury Barnes – a Gringott's curse breaker – and Cassandra Flowby, a St Mungo's healer, had been chosen from fifteen volunteers to be guardians of the remaining children.

Harry was looking forward to spending the Easter holidays at the Burrow. He needed a little quiet before the last big effort before their NEWTs was required. After the near debacle at Christmas, Harry went to talk with Snape weeks before the holidays.

"Of course you can go and see the Weasleys," Snape agreed over a cup of tea in his office. "But I have to remind you that you will be expected to spend one day with Miranda Smith and her muggle relatives."

Harry nodded. "No problem. Where do they live?"

"Near Cardiff; you do know how to apparate, don't you?" Snape asked.

Harry huffed. "You saw me do it several times!"

"I just wanted to make sure," Snape smirked. "You splinching on their doormat won't exactly further the Smiths' trust in magic, you know."

"Haha!" Harry hid behind his teacup. Had Snape just teased him?

Harry decided to go to the Smiths' first. Once he was done with his guardian duties, he could enjoy his holiday with the Weasleys to his heart's content. In an especially clever move, he decided to go to King's Cross on the Hogwarts Express to make an appointment with Miranda's muggle relatives. Ginny squealed with delight when he told her they would be able to hide away for hours because he had looked up charms to keep them unnoticed.

Snape smirked at him when he told him about his plans – the taking the express part not the snogging Ginny senseless part – but didn't comment.

"You don't mind, do you?" Ron asked Harry while they boarded the train. "Hermione and I really need some quality time together."

"It's okay," the wizarding hero told his best friend. "I'll find somebody else to sit with." He grinned. This was easier than he had thought it would be.

Ginny arrived a little later. "Fffff," she huffed. "I thought Luna was going to follow me forever!" She took off her shoes and sat beside Harry in a cross-legged position. "Luckily Justin asked her to sit with him! They make a nice match."

Harry nodded but he couldn't have cared less where and with whom Luna had ended up with. He slid his arm around Ginny's shoulders and pulled her closer.

-x-

Mr Smith reminded Harry unpleasantly of uncle Vernon. The man had as little neck and as much moustache. Miranda mirrored his expression of unhappiness about the family reunion. Mrs Smith was nothing like aunt Petunia though. She rather looked like Mrs Weasley, a friendly plump woman with reddish hair. The woman smiled genuinely when she greeted the girl but the welcome was rather short since she was busy keeping three younger boys in check.

"Let's go, girl," said Mr Smith. "I don't have all day."

"A word, Mr Smith," Harry said as politely as he could when he wanted to throttle the man.

"We're in a hurry," growled the muggle.

Harry smiled weakly. "It won't take long. My name is Harry Snape, I was assigned Miranda's magical guardian and I wanted to ask whether it was okay if I dropped by later today."

"A magical guardian, eh?" the man growled. "Where were you when the girl was orphaned?"

"Actually I was busy fighting the guy who killed Miranda's parents," Harry snapped, losing his patience. "So, may I come to talk to you and your wife?"

"Who's that, Paul?" Mrs Smith joined the conversation. The three boys were eating chocolate behind her.

"He says he's the girl's guardian."

"We are her guardians!" protested the muggle woman.

Harry turned to her. "Of course you are but it was decided that it would be helpful for you to have a magical person to help with any questions which will certainly arise sooner or later when you raise a magical child. May I drop by later today?"

"Of course! We already have a couple of questions." The woman smiled. "Come around nine in the evening. The boys should be in bed then."

"Nine then," Harry smiled at Miranda. "I'll see you, Miranda."

"Yes, Sir," the girl replied earnestly.

"Harry," Harry corrected her. With a last encouraging smile at the girl, Harry went to the waiting Weasley family. He was going to apparate to the Smiths' from the Burrow in the evening

Mr Weasley took the family to the backside of the building. "I got us a portkey," he said proudly and showed an empty milk bottle. George smiled at him. "Thank you, Dad. That's very convenient."

When the group of Weasleys, Harry and Hermione gathered around the bottle, Harry noticed it for the first time. Mrs Weasley glared at Hermione angrily. A quick glance at the girl showed that she had noticed it, too, but Ron was oblivious to his mother's anger.

The Weasley matron bustled off to the kitchen to prepare food for her children as soon as they landed in front of the Burrow. Hermione moved to follow her but Harry stopped her. "I'll go," he mouthed. Thankfully the girl didn't argue but followed Ron and his siblings to the garden.

"Mrs Weasley," Harry started awkwardly when he entered the kitchen, "may I help you with dinner?"

"That's a lovely thing to suggest," the witch replied kindly, "but you really don't need to. I know some great household spells. Dinner will be ready in a jiffy."

"But I'd love to," Harry insisted. "Please, Mrs Weasley. I never had a mom to help in the kitchen."

"Certainly your aunt let you help from time to time." Mrs Weasley handed him a basket of carrots. "If you want to help, you can cut these."

The youth cut the first carrot before he replied. "My aunt Petunia never let me help. Sometimes she made me do all the cooking but only if she needed something easy done. I fried eggs and bacon. The most complicated thing I ever made was potato soup." He smiled weakly.

"Oh Harry! That's terrible!" cried the witch.

The boy shrugged. "It's over."

"But your home was supposed to be a safe haven for you!"

"It was," Harry smiled. "Hogwarts is the only home I ever knew." He swallowed hard before he changed topic. "Mrs Weasley, about Hermione…"

"I can't believe Ron brought her here after her true colours were revealed!" Mrs Weasley cried.

"Well, Ron saw through Malfoy's plan immediately," Harry smiled. "Malfoy tried to win Hermione over at the start of the school year. He nearly succeeded. – You know our Hermione, she can't resist intellectual stimulus. – But she soon saw her mistake and reconciled with Ron. Malfoy tried to get her back by staging their row in front of the press. As I said, Ron saw through it immediately."

"That's my Ronald," Mrs Weasley cried proudly. "He's so clever and sweet."

Harry laughed. "I don't know about sweet but clever he is."

Dinner was delicious. Hermione got the biggest portion of stew and Harry felt a bit proud when everybody praised the cooks although he hadn't done more than cut the carrots and parsley.

-x-

There was still a little time after dinner before Harry had to go to the Smiths'. George tried to convince the youngsters to play a round of quidditch near the house but they refused. Ron and Hermione disappeared to Ron's room and Ginny convinced Harry to go on a walk up the hill, not that he needed much convincing. "You should have come to Hogwarts if you wanted to play with us," she winked teasingly at her brother.

"And here I thought you had come home to see me," George pouted. They were already through the small gate when he cried after them. "Oi, sis! You are a girl! Say, do you think it's too late to ask Angelina out tonight?"

"Depends on how nicely you ask, mate!" Harry cried back. Ginny giggled and waved at her brother. "I'm not sure George does nice," she whispered. "Too boring for him." The witch led the way up the hill to a small group of trees. Harry conjured a blanket and they sat and looked down at the muggle village. It was quite romantic to watch the lights go on.

At a quarter to nine they got up from their spot and Harry walked Ginny back to the Burrow before he apparated to Sully.

The Smiths lived in a quiet street which reminded him strongly of Privet Drive. The lawns were neatly mown and the rose bushes stood straight like soldiers in a parade. There were lace curtains behind the windows. Neatly polished silver or grey cars stood in front of the houses and at nearly nine o'clock in the evening only a few stray cats were on the street.

Harry didn't mind. That way his apparition remained undetected. He used a quick spell to make sure his robes were clean before he hid his wand in his sleeve and walked the last meters to number 23.

It was Mrs Smith who opened the door for him. "Do come in Mr Snape," she smiled at the young wizard and held the door open invitingly. "Tea?" she ushered Harry to the living room where her husband and Miranda were waiting.

"Yes, please," Harry accepted a cup and sat beside Miranda. "How are you, Miranda?"

"Fine, thank you, Sir."

"Harry," Harry corrected her kindly. "Unless we are in the classroom."

"In the classroom?" asked Mr Smith. "Are you one of her teachers? But you can't be older than 20!"

"18, actually," Harry admitted. "Actually I'm a student but due to the events of the past few years Hogwarts has more students this year than ever before. The oldest students help out with the lower years."

"Does the girl see a real teacher ever?" barked Mr Smith.

"No student has more than three student teachers," Harry explained. "Miranda has student teachers in Herbology, Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Apart from that she's taught by very experienced teachers. The student teachers have been known to be the top of their year in the subjects they teach."

"Potions?" snarled Mr Smith. "You actually make potions? I thought that was a superstition!"

"Even non-magical people use basic potions knowledge," Harry explained patiently. "You do use herbs for medical purposes, don't you?"

"So she could become some kind of witch-doctor if she's good at potions?" asked Mrs Smith.

"Potions certainly is very important if you want to become a healer but there are other subjects which are required. Miranda has another year before she needs to choose additional subjects. I will discuss her options with her when the time to choose comes. We can do it here if you want to give her your advice."

"Of course we want to be part of Miranda's education!" cried Mrs Smith. Harry could tell by Mr Smith's expression that he didn't quite agree but since the man stayed quiet, so did Harry.

"What do you teach?" Mr Smith broke the ensuing silence.

"Defence," Harry took a sip of tea.

"They let a boy of 18 teach children how to defend themselves?" Mr Smith sneered. "That's disappointing. You certainly know that we got landed with the girl because her parents were killed by some evil wizard. I was hoping she'd learn to look after herself at that school."

Harry put down his cup. "The ability to defend oneself is not a question of size or age or even knowledge of spells. Voldemort was a vicious madman. We still don't know how many he killed. The current count nears thousand; muggles, witches and wizards. He killed powerful people who knew lots of spells and yet he met his downfall in a boy who used the first disarming spell he ever learned. Miranda is as good at Defence as can be expected at her age. I didn't know more than she at that age." He smiled at Mrs Smith who refilled the cups.

"That's already cold," snarled Mr Smith.

"I'll make a fresh pot," the woman hurried to say.

"Allow me," Harry drew his wand and cast a warming spell.

"Oh, so magic is actually good for something," Mr Smith glared at his niece. "Why don't you do anything useful from time to time?" Miranda shrank back in her seat.

"She's not allowed to before she reaches the age of 17," Harry informed the family. "Unless in cases of emergency, of course."

"What I'd like to know," said Mrs Smith, "is whether we are in danger because we took Miranda in. We have three children."

"Four," Harry corrected her.

The woman nodded. "I meant we have three who are completely helpless against magic." She smiled at Miranda kindly.

"As far as we can tell there is no danger for you. Voldemort's loyal followers have been caught or killed." Harry smiled reassuringly. "It's getting late. Are there any more questions you wish to ask?"

"You will come back, won't you?" asked Mrs Smith. "In case questions arise."

"I can come back later this week," Harry offered. They agreed on the evening before the students had to return to Hogwarts. Tired, Harry apparated back to the Burrow. The house was already dark but for the flickering light of a candle in the living room.

Ginny was sitting on the sofa, reading a book. Harry cleared his throat and she put the book down.

"How did it go?" the witch asked.

Harry shrugged. "Not bad. The uncle dislikes Miranda but the aunt seems to care for her. I have to return there before we return to Hogwarts. They have lots of questions and need time to think."

"I'm sure you are a great guardian," Ginny pulled Harry down onto the sofa and snuggled up to him.

"I'm good at a lot of things," Harry grinned.

Ginny chuckled and allowed him to demonstrate.

The next few days were happy ones. The youngest Weasleys and their guests went hiking, played quidditch – although Hermione wasn't very comfortable on a broom – or helped Mrs Weasley in the house. George came for dinner almost every day.

The oldest Weasley brothers, Bill, Charlie and Percy, came only for the actual Easter dinner. Bill brought his wife, Fleur, and Percy his new girlfriend, Maia. Charlie came alone and was teased for it mercilessly by his siblings.

"Come on, little brother," laughed Bill, "even our Ginny-baby brought a boyfriend! How come you came home alone?"

"George came alone," Charlie pointed out. The dragon keeper blushed.

"Angelina stays with her family," George informed him. "I'll meet her later."

"You won't stay?" Mrs Weasley asked, a bit disappointed.

George grinned. "Don't tell me you stayed at home all the time when you were my age."

Mrs Weasley opened her mouth to answer but didn't say anything when her husband cleared his throat and winked at her.

"Is it only me," Ron interfered, "or did we just digress from the point? Are you hiding something from us, Charlie?"

"Any meetings later?" added Ginny.

Charlie blushed. "Ha!" cried Bill. "I knew it! Who is she?"

"It's not like that," muttered the dragon keeper. "I'm meeting some of the guys for a beer later."

"Ah," laughed George. "You're going hunting! That's perfectly acceptable. No need to be ashamed."

"Ignore them, Maia," Percy said pompously. "Not all Weasley men are like cave-men."

The girl, a petite brunette, smiled weakly. The cave-men and Harry chuckled. Fleur and Hermione rolled their eyes.

"That's enough, boys," scolded Mrs Weasley. "Stop it this instant!"

George saluted. "Yes, Ma'am. We'll behave!"

The meal was delicious like always. Mrs Weasley, assisted by Ginny and Hermione, had made a greater variety of dishes for the occasion as well as a sinfully delicious chocolate cake.

"Thank you for those cooking charms, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione. "I will practice. Maybe Ginny can help me."

"Be prepared to eat lots of chocolate cake, boys," cried George.

Ron glared at Hermione. "Don't you dare practice those charms at Hogwarts! How would the house elves feel if you took over their job?"

"Oh Ron!" cried Hermione. "That was a thoughtful thing to say!"

"I always thought the Hogwarts house elves made a particularly delicious chocolate cake," said Percy. "Don't you agree, Maia?"

"Quite," the girl spoke for the first time. "Although I must admit that your mother outdoes them easily."

Mrs Weasley chuckled merrily and put another slice on Maia's plate.

Harry watched the whole exchange contently. It was good to have a family. For an instant he asked himself how Snape was spending the evening.

-x-

Miranda opened the door for Harry when he returned to the Smiths'. "Good evening, Sir," she greeted Harry. "My aunt is tucking the boys in and my uncle isn't home yet. Aunt Mary says we're to wait in the living room."

"Why won't you call me Harry? I told you to repeatedly," Harry smiled as he followed the girl inside.

"I'd rather not. I can't in class after all," the girl replied shyly.

"But you can while we are in private," Harry tried to convince the child. "I won't be your teacher but for three months but I'll stay your guardian."

"If you agree, I'd rather start calling you Harry when you left school," piped the girl.

"So," Harry sat on the armchair the girl indicated. "How are you? Is everything alright? How are your relatives coping with magic?"

"My aunt is a lovely woman. She doesn't care whether I'm a witch or not. My uncle…" The girl shrugged. "I think he doesn't know what to make of it. Sometimes I think he's scared. Sometimes I think he's just annoyed because he's not sure whether magic is useful or dangerous."

"I'm here to answer his questions. I hope that helps."

There was a sound in the hall. "Uncle Bertram is home," Miranda rose and went to welcome her uncle home. "Mr Snape is here," Harry heard her say.

Mr Smith entered the living room an instant later. "Mr Snape," he greeted Harry. "I've been awaiting your second visit. There are some things I'd like to know."

"I'm here to answer your questions," Harry reassured him.

"Then let's start right away. Who was that guy who killed my brother and where is he now? Are my sons in danger?"

"First of all," Harry said carefully, "there is no danger for you and your children as far as we can tell. As I said at my last visit, Voldemort's followers have been caught or killed."

"And that Voldemort bloke?"

Harry fidgeted in his chair uncomfortably. He didn't like talking about Voldemort's demise. "He's dead," he said, hoping that that would be enough for the muggle.

"Are you sure? It could be what the government wants to make us believe."

Harry swallowed hard. "I am sure, Sir," he said softly. "I killed him personally."

Mr Smith shrank back and Harry felt he had to elaborate to reassure the man. "Voldemort," he explained, "rose for the first time before I was born. When I was one year old, he killed my parents. My mother sacrificed her life willingly to save mine and when he wanted to kill me, he was severely injured. It took him more than a decade to recover. When he finally returned, he went after me. Last year, there was a big battle at Hogwarts. The forces of Light and Dark fought. At last it came down to a confrontation between him and me." Harry sighed. "I won."

Mr Smith stared at the young wizard, dumbfounded. "You are a murderer!" he then cried.

Harry nodded. "I am," he said heavily. "My only excuse is that it was the only way to stop him."

"Why aren't you in prison?" Mr Smith asked suspiciously.

"It isn't like I decided to go and kill somebody," Harry said defensively. "Voldemort killed hundreds, if not thousands. I'm considered a hero for ridding the world of him. Throughout history there have been evil wizards and witches and only one of them has been stopped by other means than killing them."

Mr Smith contemplated what Harry had said before he continued. "Can Miranda kill?" he then asked. The girl gasped.

"No," Harry replied firmly. "First of all, her magic is too weak and too unfocused at this stage. Apart from that, killing with magic is difficult. You have to mean it without a trace of doubt. Miranda is a kind girl. I don't think she has it in her to actually mean harm. Only few witches and wizards have the ability."

"But you have," Mr Smith sounded fearful.

"Actually, I just threw the killing curse he had uttered at me back at Voldemort. I don't think I could cast a successful killing curse myself. Magic is good, Mr Smith, and useful. Voldemort and what happened due to him was terrible but that was just one man having gone evil. Magical people have lives similar to everybody else's. They have families and friends, jobs and homes. The only difference is that they use magic for certain tasks."

"What is important for me as Miranda's guardian," said the muggle, "is that she gets an education which enables her to make a good living. Can magic help her in that?"

"Of course!" cried Harry. "Oh, good evening, Mrs Smith!" He smiled at the woman who had just joined them. "There are lots of magical professions she can learn. It's too early to actually decide though. She needs to see which branches of magic come easier to her than others."

"What branches of magic are there?" asked Mrs Smith.

Harry was glad to be back on safe ground after all the talk about Voldemort. He explained about the different subjects which were taught at Hogwarts. Mr and Mrs Smith listened intently.

"I'm not sure I understand the difference between Charms and Transfiguration," sighed Mrs Smith after a while.

"With your permission, I can demonstrate," offered Harry.

The woman nodded and Harry drew his wand. He first charmed a chair to walk around the room. Then, after a few words of explanation, he turned the chair into a statue of a fairy and then back into a chair.

"Can Miranda do that?" Mr Smith asked.

"Not yet," smiled Harry. "But in a few years she will. Please remember that she's not allowed to do magic at home before her seventeenth birthday. If she did she was in severe danger of losing her place at Hogwarts. Speaking of Hogwarts, you need to pack your things, young lady." He took his leave a little later, after promising to return during the summer and watch over Miranda at Hogwarts.

-x-

Snape called a meeting of all eighth years a week after they returned to Hogwarts.

"I have news which you won't like," he said without preamble when Hermione, who had hurried into the common room just on time with her arms full of books, had sat down. "Due to the loss of staff during the war, they don't have enough examiners. Therefore the exams will start three weeks earlier than we thought. NEWTs for the eighth years will be first, then NEWTs for the seventh years, then OWLs, then the rest."

"What?" shrieked Hermione. "And you're telling us that now? I devised a studying plan around Christmas! You can't just take three weeks from us! If they can't hold all exams at once, why can't we sit ours later, during July?"

Snape managed to look sorry for her. "Hogwarts still needs a lot of repairs, you all know that. We need all the time we can get during the summer for that or we'll have another emergency school year."

"You'll have an increased number of students anyway," Harry pointed out. "It will be just us you get rid of."

"We'll manage," Snape reassured him. "Especially if the castle is back in full working condition. As for your exams, several staff members offered extra studying sessions for you if you're willing to work late."

"I'm not sure I can handle an increased workload," sighed Pansy Parkinson. "Not with the first years I teach." Several of the other students agreed.

"Can we get a time turner for those extra lessons?" asked Hermione.

"What is a time turner?" asked Neville.

Snape explained. "Unfortunately there aren't any left at the ministry. I had that idea myself and asked. According to Mr Shacklebolt, somebody had the presence of mind to destroy the last few," he looked at Harry pointedly, "that were left before the deatheaters got them."

Several students shuddered visibly at the idea of Lord Voldemort's followers being able to manipulate time.

"We'll take the late night lessons and try to make the best of them," said Harry. He wasn't happy with the idea. More lessons meant even less time with Ginny. The only good thing was that the girl needed to study for her NEWTs, too, or she would be very annoyed at him for not having time for her.

"I wish we hadn't dropped Quidditch," Ron moaned beside Harry.

"How would that help?" asked Draco, bewildered.

Ron shrugged. "If we hadn't, we could drop it now to get more time for studying." The silly remark eased the tension and everybody laughed. Even Snape looked a little merrier.

The headmaster dismissed the eighth years after giving them the schedule the staff suggested – Harry noted that the man himself was giving up a half dozen evenings to tutor them in Potions. "A word, Harry," he said when everybody scrambled to their feet to leave.

"Yes?" Harry had homework to correct and an essay about secrecy charms to write.

"How did it go with Ms Smith's family?"

"Not so bad, actually." Harry told the man. "First I thought the family disliked her just like mine had me but it turned out they were just worried because they didn't understand about magic and what it meant for them. I answered a lot of questions and promised to come back. This programme was a good idea. I wish there had been something similar when I was younger."

Snape shook his head. "Do you really think anything could have changed Petunia's attitude? Speaking of her, have you seen her since the end of the war?"

Harry glared at the older man angrily. "Why would I?" he spat. "She made me think my father was a drunken good-for-nothing who had killed his wife and nearly his son. She made me think my mother didn't care enough for me to keep me out of a car with a drunk driver! She kept me in the dark about my heritage and she knew about the magical world all along!"

"She was jealous," Snape reminded him softly.

"That's no excuse for letting uncle Vernon belittle me and call me a freak! By the time Hagrid came to bring me my letter, I was convinced I was a worthless burden for anybody who had the misfortune of having to deal with me!"

Snape snorted. "If you were you hid it well."

"What do you know?" Harry was shouting now. "All you saw was a child looking like James Potter and you took your petty grudge out on me from the first moment you set eye on me!"

For a moment anger flashed in Snape's eyes but it was gone as quickly as it had come. "You're right," he said softly, "though not entirely. I saw James Potter's son, but also my friend Lily's. During your first lesson you made it clear that you were nothing like Lily. You had come unprepared. James would have, but not Lily; never Lily. I was angry that you had nothing of her in you."

Harry felt like throwing things at the man. With a jolt of grief he remembered the one time he had devastated this very office in the past, with a different headmaster in residence. Using all his willpower, he reined his anger in.

"I had read the first three chapters," he said softly. "Twice. And when you made that little speech, you know…" He tried to imitate the potions master's deep voice. "I can show you how to bewitch the mind, ensnare the senses…" Harry paused sadly. "I was fascinated with your subject. The things you promised to teach us! But then you started your crusade against me." He imitated Snape's voice again. "Mr Potter, our new celebrity… By the time you asked me your questions, I was so scared, I couldn't have told you my name."

"You were cheeky! Don't lie about being scared!"

Harry shrugged. "I'm a Gryffindor. When have you known us to cower?"

Snape snorted. "I forgot."

"Is there anything else?" asked Harry. "I need to study."

"No," Snape shook his head. "You need to concentrate on your exams. I'll try to let you work in peace."

"Thank you," Harry smiled weakly. "And thank you for organising the extra tutoring."

"You and your peers shouldn't have a bad start of career just because your seventh year happened to be the one the Dark Lord struck."

Hermione and the rest of their study group were working on the transfiguration project McGonagall had assigned them when Harry returned to the eighth years' tower. Harry joined them with a curt nod instead of a greeting. Draco pointed him at the paragraph in the textbook they had been discussing.

It was well after midnight before anybody went to bed.

-x-

Harry – and all eighth years but Hermione – hadn't worked as hard as during the weeks after Easter ever before. Some nights he barely managed four hours of sleep. The teachers tried to help but whatever little time they were able to buy them was used for correcting homework of the students they were teaching. By the middle of May the eighth years were asleep on their feet.

"This cannot go on," the headmaster said to the assembled youths in their common room. "Close that book when I'm talking to you, Ms Granger."

"Sorry, professor," muttered the girl. Several other students closed books, looking guilty.

"In the state you are in, all of you," Snape said sternly, "you are most likely to fail every single exam." He raised his arms to stop the protests coming from the students. "Therefore I hired some people who will take over your lessons for the next two weeks on one condition."

"You have people you can hire?" cried Pansy.

"I have," sighed Snape. "To be exact, I asked your parents and other relatives to help. As you all know, they cannot take over lessons on a permanent basis but they agreed to take over for a fortnight on the condition that you sleep eight hours per night."

Some students sighed happily, others – Hermione and Draco – looked ready to protest.

"A spell will be used to make sure that you keep your end of the bargain," Snape continued. "The auxiliary teachers will arrive later today. You are expected to inform them about what you planned to cover in your lessons. Defence lessons will be taken over by Lucius Malfoy, Potions by George Weasley, Charms by Molly Weasley ..." Snape continued the list but Harry was not listening. Lucius Malfoy was going to teach his students and he had to speak with the man in order to inform him about the syllabus.

The prospect of spending time with the blond wizard made Harry feel uncomfortable. True, he had learned to get on quite well with Draco but Lucius was an entirely different story.

The blond wizard arrived after the last lesson of the day.

"Mr Potter," he greeted Harry solemnly.

"Mr Malfoy," Harry smiled weakly. They had met in the defence classroom. Harry had turned one of the students' tables into a big desk. Books and stacks of homework were waiting for the older wizard.

"So, what do we have here?" asked the man.

"Let's start with the first years," Harry suggested. "We started on dark objects. Here, I marked in the book what we have done so far. These," he unrolled a scroll of parchment, "are the lists of students. There are two. The regular first years and those who should be in their second year but aren't."

"Halfbloods and muggle born," nodded the blond wizard.

Harry agreed with a curt nod. "I… Are…," he stuttered, "are you comfortable with teaching muggleborn students? These children have difficulties enough finding their place in the wizarding world as it is."

"I'm perfectly comfortable teaching muggleborns," Lucius informed him. "You will remember that in the end I saw the wrongness of the Dark Lord's ways."

"I didn't mean any offence," Harry hurried to say. He felt himself blush. "It's just… I guess if you were used to certain ways for so long it must be difficult to change."

"It can be done," muttered Lucius. "Let's get this done. Severus said you needed all the time you could get."

"That's true. As for the second years…"

It took a total of three hours. Lucius Malfoy volunteered to correct the third year essays on werewolves to "get an impression of what they knew". A lot earlier than usual, Harry returned to his room to study.

Although their relatives helped, by the time the exams started, Harry and the rest of the eighth years were beyond exhausted. Ron was practically asleep on his feet when they went down to the Great Hall to sit their first exam, Transfiguration.

"I need to do well," the redhead yawned. "My future depends on these tests!"

Harry felt sorry for his friend. True, he wanted to succeed himself; but at least he had a fortune – two actually – to rely on in case he failed. Ron didn't have that luxury. His NEWTs determined which job he was going to get and how much money he was going to be able to earn. Given the condition the boy was in, Harry thought it would be a great success if he didn't fall asleep on the examiner.

"Two more minutes," muttered Hermione. "Can't they let us in early?"

"It's better they don't," Draco replied, "or some of us might be snoring by the time we get our questions."

"Then we should make sure you're awake," said Snape from behind them. The potions master was holding a tray of small steaming goblets. "Help yourselves."

"Is that legal?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

Snape smirked at the girl. "As long as I don't give you anything wit-enhancening I'm well within my rights as headmaster to dose you with whichever potion I see fit."

"What is it?" asked Draco.

"A mild form of pepper-up. It will last long enough to help you through the written exam. Unfortunately it's not allowed for the practical in the afternoon. I suggest you ask the house elves for strong coffee after lunch." The headmaster looked at Ron pointedly.

Harry was the first to reach for one of the goblets. "Thank you," he smiled.

The test was the most difficult Harry had ever sat. There were not only more questions than he was used to, they were also more detailed. Hadn't he spent a year in that tent with Ron and Hermione, he wouldn't have remembered more than half of the spells they asked for. As it was, he had practiced the magic he had to describe in dire situations. It was, Harry found, easy to remember a spell when it had saved your life at some point.

Three hours later, the examiner, an ancient wizard in canary yellow robes, collected their papers with a wave of his wand.

"Could somebody please turn the tables back?" he asked as he started putting their exams into his bag. "We need to hurry. Since I'm the only examiner here, our schedule for your practicals is tight."

Harry, Ron and Hermione acted without thinking. They had done so much magic together during their year on the run, it came to them naturally. Harry worked on the tables and Ron turned the chairs they had used for the exam back into the benches which were normally used with the house tables. Hermione restored the candelabras which usually stood on the house tables.

"Excellent!" applauded the examiner when they were done. "Mr Snape, would you kindly turn this candle into a bird?" He pointed at one of the candles on the nearest candelabra. Harry did as he was told and turned it into a small sparrow. The bird chirped and took flight immediately.

The examiner nodded. "Good. Can you make a slightly more spectacular bird?"

Harry laughed. He and Ron had played that game from time to time when they were bored. He aimed and the sparrow was turned into a raven in midflight. "Your turn, Ron," Harry laughed.

Ron didn't need to be asked twice. He pointed his wand at the raven and turned it into a mocking bird. Next, Harry made a blue tit, then Ron made a parrot, Harry a swallow and at last Ron turned the swallow into a vulture. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really, boys," she sighed and pointed her wand at the bird. It burst into a shower of confetti. Harry and Ron laughed at her and turned the confetti into a flock of canaries. The girl frowned and a spell later the canaries had become ducks.

It was wonderful to relax in a game after the hard work they all had put into their studies lately. The trio forgot about the other students and continued their game with increasing speed. Every now and then one of them made a bird explode to increase the number of creatures and make it more difficult for the other two to transfigure them all at the same time.

"Help me, Hermione," Ron cried after a while. "He's doing it again!" Hermione complied and they continued the game two on one. Nevertheless Harry won because he was the only one of the three who had mastered the art of turning part of the flock into small, fast birds and the rest into ground-bound birds, kiwis on that particular day.

The examiner clapped his hands enthusiastically, bringing the trio back to the present. "That was wonderful! The focus! The skill! The speed! Excellent! Excellent! You're all three excused from the practical part of the exam. Now remove the bird droppings and we can call the rest of the school in for lunch.

During the meal, the examiner sat with the headmaster and Professor McGonagall. Harry could tell that he was telling them about the bird game. Snape looked over at Harry. The pride he saw in the man's eyes warmed Harry's heart.

The exam Harry feared most was Potions; not because he thought he was not able to pass but because he found that he wanted to pass well. He was, after all, a potions master's adopted son! What would people say if he got anything but top marks?

He spent the evening before the exam studying. There were some which he knew by heart, mainly medical potions, because he had needed them during his quest for the horcruxes but most he still found difficult to remember. Why would he want to manipulate anybody's mind or emotions?

Ron looked just as desperate as Harry felt. In fact, most of the eighth years looked anything but relaxed. The only ones who looked remotely relaxed were Draco and Hermione.

The girl was sitting beside Ron, her advanced potions text in her lap, reading. "What are you studying for?" groaned Ron. "You certainly know all the books by heart!"

"Well," Hermione blushed, "since all of you are busy, what am I to do? Some light reading can't be wrong, can it?"

"Light reading?" echoed the redhead in disbelief. "Light reading?"

Draco put down his book on the other side of the room. "Why don't we take a walk?" he asked. "Let Weasley and the others study in peace."

Hermione looked undecided.

"You are not taking my girlfriend on a walk!" cried Ron.

"Shut up, Weasley! There are people trying to study in here!" cried Justin Finch-Fletchley. The Hufflepuff looked very pale.

"You would all have more peace and quiet if we went," Draco pointed out.

Harry decided to interfere before the situation could get completely out of hand. "Draco," he said softly, "could you help me with this potion? I have difficulties understanding what the wormwood does in it."

"Wormwood?" asked Draco, rising to the bait. "That's easy. There are not many different uses for wormwood. Basically…"

Parvati interrupted him before he could continue. "Wait, I want to hear that, too." She moved closer to the blond with her book. Others followed her example and within two minutes Draco found himself in charge of a remedial potions workshop. Even Ron was part of the group.

The next day, Harry made a mental note to buy the blond a thank you gift. There were several questions he was only able to answer because Draco had explained things the previous evening.

The theoretical exam went well enough. The practical was a different thing. First Harry was relieved when he saw the task they were set. The examiner asked them for a burn ointment which was an easy enough task. The trio had made several batches during the last year. In fact, this was one of the few potions recipes he knew by heart.

What he didn't take into account though was that he hadn't brewed in a full class room all year.

It took Neville barely ten minutes to blow up his first cauldron. Unknown ingredients splattered Harry's worktable. He gritted his teeth, cleaned away what he had done so far, cleaned his table, tools and cauldron and set up a strong shield charm before he started anew.

He nearly cut off his finger when Goyle started to curse behind him. Something was wrong with the other boy's daisy roots. At least this time Harry didn't need to empty his cauldron but his finely diced bark of beech was unusable due to the blood he had spilled on it. While he cleaned the blood away, Harry searched his memory frantically. Had he overlooked the daisy roots in the recipe or was Goyle wrong? He didn't remember the recipe!

A cough on his right – Hermione – brought Harry back to the task at hand just in time to prevent his potion from boiling over. He added a dash of dragon saliva and hurried to cut new bark.

By the end of the lesson, Harry's hair was singed, he had cut two fingers, his left eye was burning because he had got sweat into it, one of his lenses was broken, his table looked like a battle field (there even were blood stains) and his potion had the wrong colour. It was bright blue instead of a soft lilac.

The young wizard felt defeated when he handed the examiner a vial of his brew for testing. The wizard turned to the witch on his right, a healer from St Mungo's had come to help him test the eighth years' work.

The woman, a curly redhead, raised a brow and opened the vial. She smelled the potion, dipped her finger in and spread a little of the salve on her wrist. Harry crossed his fingers. He might still pass if the woman didn't sprout fur or boils where she had put his potion.

"You added thyme, Mr Snape?" the woman asked, surprised.

Harry nodded meekly. He just hoped that wasn't too bad a mistake. Thyme was not in the recipe but the explosion of Neville's second cauldron had made it hard to think at the time he had added the herb.

The woman beamed. "He made the revised version. It was only in the last issue of Potions Monthly. Excellent work, Mr Snape; as can be expected of a potions master's son."

Harry blushed. He had done well! Now all he had to do was try and hide that it had been by accident.

Since the NEWTs were over, Harry and the other eighth years took their classes back over. Harry spent an afternoon with Lucius Malfoy going over his students' achievements of the past weeks.

The blond wizard turned out to be surprisingly pleasant company. He had made tables for each class which contained information about each student's work. He could tell who had said what when and whether he or she had been able to answer questions correctly.

"I was surprised you were able to tell anything about your students with the mess your records were in," he said as he stirred the tea Harry had just poured for him.

"I had trouble to," Harry admitted.

The blond man smiled. "I thought so." He took a sip of tea. "I took the liberty of organizing your records a bit."

Harry leaved through the tables. "This is amazing! Why didn't anybody tell me how to do it?"

"Perhaps they thought it was the obvious way to proceed. People tend to forget to mention what they consider obvious." Lucius Malfoy smiled apologetically.

Harry hummed noncommittally. "Is this correct?" he cried. "Andy Barnes hasn't managed a single essay better than a T? I knew he was bad but had no idea how bad he was!"

"Ah, yes, Mr Barnes," purred Lucius. "I organised tutoring lessons for him. He needs them desperately."

"Who will tutor him?" Every single teacher and eighth year was already teaching more lessons than was wise.

"I will," said the blond wizard.

"You?" Harry was taken aback. "Forgive me, but Andy Barnes is muggleborn. I thought…"

"That I wouldn't teach a muggleborn student?" Lucius Malfoy stared into his tea cup. "To be honest, I wouldn't have a year ago but I have met some people since the end of the war who taught me how wrong I was. I never cared to get to know any muggleborn person. Your Ms Granger, for example, she's a muggleborn and she helped you save my son. She's as powerful a witch as any other I know. Or that young wizard who works for my lawyer; I never knew about his parentage. I'd never have guessed he was muggleborn!"

"I'm glad you saw that blood status has nothing to do with the worth of a witch or wizard," Harry smiled.

"It's more a question of education," agreed the blond man. "And we can make sure that every young witch and wizard gets a proper education. Purebloods and halfbloods have a head start since they grow into the wizarding world from an earlier age, but muggleborns can catch up if we help them. I intend to found an organisation to take care of the problem. I was hoping you were going to help me get the publicity we need."

"You want to extend Snape's guardian programme?"

"Basically," agreed Lucius. "I want to start sooner though. If we could get the names of the muggleborns before they got their Hogwarts letter we could work with the families for a year or two."

"Then we should ask Snape to help," Harry pointed out.

"I don't see why not," Lucius nodded. "The more help the better."

"Then we should continue the discussion with him present."

They agreed to ask the headmaster for a meeting after the exams. When Lucius took his leave, it was already time for dinner. Harry sighed. The summer was only a couple of weeks away and Merlin knew he needed a holiday.

Two weeks later Harry found himself in an unusual situation: he had a free afternoon. It was something he hadn't had in some time and therefore he had no plans at all how to spend it. It would be nice, he thought, to go down to the lake with Ron and Hermione but they were nowhere to be found and when he asked Draco whether he had seen them, the blond winked at him and said that, yes, he had but Harry'd better not tell them. Harry blushed and left the tower at a hurry.

Ginny was still busy with her work. She had two more exams to sit, among them Potions which was not her very best subject and when Harry asked whether she wanted to go with him for a walk she looked at her boyfriend as if he had gone mad. Hastily, Harry added that he was just making sure she saved some time for him next week and took flight.

On his way down the stairs, Harry thought how ridiculous it was. It was his first free afternoon in months, and here he was, bored. At last he thought of the one person who might be glad to see him.

The stone gargoyle jumped aside without waiting for a password when Harry approached the headmaster's office. Snape was sitting behind his desk, sorting through stacks of parchment.

"Hullo," Harry greeted him awkwardly.

"Harry," the older wizard smiled. "How are you doing? The worst of work is finally over. It must be good to have your freedom back, eh?"

Harry sighed. "It's not much use with everybody else being so busy."

"So you are bored and thought of seeing the old git for lack of better company?"

The boy blushed. "Actually I was going to ask whether you need help with anything. I want to enjoy the holidays and all work I can get done before they start I'd like to get out of the way."

If Snape saw through the lie, he didn't say anything. "Well, there are several things I could use your help with. Lucius mentioned a project to contact muggleborns' families before the children get their Hogwarts letters, the mentoring project needs some work, too. The ministry wants a report about what we did and how it went. If the report shows the project is having good effect on the children, they might help us next year. And there is, of course, still some grading to do." He paused and Harry could tell there was more. "And we haven't made a public appearance as father and son in some time," Snape muttered at last.

"Then why don't we go to Hogsmeade," Harry offered. "We could do some shopping and have dinner at the Three Broomsticks."

"Why not," agreed the potions master, "I could do with a break." He glared at the stacks of parchment he had been working with.

On the way down to the village, Snape interviewed Harry about his Potions exam. The teenage hero expected to be chastised for having succeeded through luck again, but Snape only laughed good-naturedly. "You have to know when to keep a spoiled potion and when not," the potions master explained. "The most spectacular discoveries were made like that. Your mother had great instincts when it came to deciding what to keep and what not."

"Does panic count as a reason to keep a brew?" giggled Harry. "I was so scared what the public would say if I failed!" He blushed. Actually he had worried more what Snape would say but he wasn't ready to admit that.

"Ah, yes, the One Who Saved Us All is useless at potions. Take away his Order of Merlin!" Snape snorted. "As if they would have cared!"

"I don't want to be remembered for only that," Harry muttered.

"I know," Snape sighed. "You are young, Harry. You have time to prove yourself in many ways. Trust me, your Potions grade will not be what anyone remembers, no matter how good or bad it is."

"Really?" Harry doubted that the public would ever forget his NEWT grades. Normally, he couldn't even buy a bag of chocolates without making the newspapers.

"Really. Why don't we go and get you some festive robes?" Snape asked. "You will need them for the graduation ceremony."

"Graduation ceremony? I never knew there was one!"

"There's one every year," Snape pointed out.

"How come I never knew?"

"Only family and friends are invited," Snape pointed out. "You have no magical relatives left and your aunt wouldn't have let you stay for the ceremony. Did you never realise that the seventh years didn't take the train back to London in June?"

"I thought that was because they were allowed to apparate or fly," Harry admitted.

"No, they stay behind for the ceremony the next day," Snape explained. They had arrived at Gladrags. "Now, what shall you wear…" He led Harry to the department for formal clothing.

Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror, pleased. How'd have guessed that Severus Snape, who hadn't been seen in anything other than black robes in years, actually had fashion sense? The older wizard had chosen grey trousers and robes with green trimmings and a white shirt for Harry without much ado. The boy had been reluctant to wear green again but then he remembered how everybody had said that he looked stunning in green because of his eyes at the yule ball. When Snape assured him that it was considered inappropriate to wear house colours for the graduation ceremony he agreed to try the clothes on, and he looked marvellous in them.

He was startled out of his reverie by a whistle from the mirror. "You look good enough to eat," the magical device informed him. "I wish I had a mouth!"

Harry felt himself blush and the blush deepened when he heard Snape chuckle behind him.

They had Harry's new outfit owled to Hogwarts before they went to the apothecary's. There, Snape started a lengthy discussion about discounts and the quality of the dragon saliva they were selling.

"You know very well that the amount of dragon saliva has to be at least doubled if the beast has eaten a bird before the saliva was harvested. I can practically hear this bottle cackle!" he snarled at the shop assistant.

"Professor Snape, certainly adjusting the amount is not a problem for an expert like you!" cried the hapless young man.

"I'm not going to pay for three batches of potion when I can make only one!" cried the older wizard. "But why do I expect you to understand that. I'll never understand how Master Browning hired a thunderhead like you, Stubbins! Fetch your master, I want to discuss this with somebody who has the brain to follow the argument."

The assistant blushed and ran off.

"That wasn't a nice thing to say," Harry pointed out.

"It's true!" snarled Snape, though with less vehemence. "I taught him for seven years. Stubbins was my worst student ever before you and Longbottom entered my classroom."

"Hey! I passed my NEWT!" cried Harry.

Snape's expression softened. "Yes, you did," he admitted. "And you did better than I dared hope for."

"You were hoping I was going to pass my NEWT?" The thought that somebody had worried about how he was doing in his exam was nice, even if that somebody was Snape.

The older man shrugged. "I have a reputation to lose."

Harry didn't rise to the bait. "I'll go to Honeydukes," he said instead. "This will take you quite a while I guess."

Snape nodded. "Why don't we meet at the Three Broomsticks in an hour? Or make that one and a half hour; I need cat fangs and bat ears, too."

Harry agreed and set out for the sweet shop.

Snape was already there when Harry entered Madam Rosmerta's realm. The boy waved to show that he had spotted Snape at one of the tables. To his surprise, the older wizard waved back.

"Did you get what you wanted?" Snape asked as Harry sat down and signalled Madam Rosmerta.

Harry held up a bag of chocolates. "Here, would you like some? I've got plenty."

"Is there any dark chocolate?" asked Snape.

Harry rummaged in the chocolate bag and with a small cry of triumph held up a bar. "I knew I had got some." He handed it to the potions master.

Snape's words of thanks were interrupted by Rosmerta who levitated a tray to their table.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter," she greeted Harry and the boy muttered "Snape" without thinking. "Ah, of course, Mr Snape." The witch smiled. "It's difficult to remember sometimes. There was no insult intended." She put bowls of soup in front of the two wizards and a mug of butterbeer beside Harry's. "Your father was not sure you wanted dessert," she looked at the boy questioningly. "I have vanilla ice cream and treacle tart."

"I'd like treacle tart, please," Harry smiled.

The meal was pleasant, with amiable chat. Snape was proud he had got a vial of mermaid tears for free as compensation for the bad quality of the dragon saliva. Harry congratulated him and laughed at all the appropriate points of Snape's account of the discussion leading to that.

Neither of the two wizards noticed the witch with the quick quote quill who was sipping a gillywater at the counter.

-x-

Two weeks later, Harry was trying to groom his hair for the graduation ceremony when Malfoy walked into the boys' bathroom.

"That's a fight you can't win," the blond pointed out good-naturedly.

Harry made a face. "Possibly," he admitted, "since I don't want to use tons of hair gel like certain others."

"Hair gel?" Draco asked. He pointed his wand at his hair and muttered a spell. The tousled blond tuft of hair arranged itself into his usual slick style.

"Hang on!" cried Harry. "You're doing this with a spell?"

"Of course! What else would I do? Attack myself with a comb?" Malfoy snorted. "Wanna a hand?" he then offered.

Harry bit his lip. "Okay," he said after a moment of consideration. "But I'll hex you into oblivion if you make matters worse."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Stand still!" he ordered and cast a spell.

Harry's mop of hair lay flat immediately. The Gryffindor turned this way and that to see better but Malfoy was not content with his handiwork.

"That's not you," he stated and cast another spell. Harry's hair curled. "No, even worse." Another spell was followed by another and another. Finally the blond gave up and ruffled up the other boy's hair. "There, that's you."

Harry looked into the mirror. His hair looked as messy as ever only a little shinier. "Can you teach me that spell?" he asked.

The blond shrugged. "The incantation is Capilli," he said, "but you need to practice since the wand movement determines the result." He picked up his toothbrush and demonstrated a swish. "Curls," he said. A flick. "A ponytail." A double flick. "Longer hair. – And be careful not to perform a triple swish. It will give you green hair."

"Capilli," Harry repeated the incantation. "I'll practice later. We need to go or we'll miss the ceremony."

"Father would kill me!" cried the blond. Together, the boys rushed out of the bathroom just in time to catch up with the other eighth years on their way to the Great Hall.

Once again, Harry, Ron, Hermione and the others stood in the small chamber where they had awaited their sorting eight years ago. The room was more crowded than it should be for there were two years of students assembled; the eighth years who had lost a year in their education due to Lord Voldemort and the seventh years who had finished theirs as they were supposed to.

Luckily the ghosts of Hogwarts didn't come this time to walk through the waiting witches and wizards. If anybody had tried to move away from them, chaos would have ensued for lack of room.

Outside, there were the buzzing sounds of guests arriving for the ceremony. "I wish they'd hurry up," sighed Ron. "Or they'd at least thought to enlarge this room!" added Malfoy.

When, finally, the sounds of people died down, there was a soft plopping sound and a house elf clad in a festive damask napkin appeared among the students. It was Kreacher, Harry realised.

"Kreacher is honoured to lead the first generation of witches and wizards who finished their education in freedom to the Great Hall." The elf bowed deeply.

"They allow a house elf to lead us to the ceremony?" growled Pansy Parkinson.

She was told to shut up by several people, Slytherins among them. "Don't forget," Harry added, "that without the house elves we wouldn't have won the battle of Hogwarts. They are our allies."

The girl bit her lip but remained quiet. "At least he didn't say friends," she muttered when she left the chamber last in the queue of graduates.

The Great Hall had been decorated with garlands of flowers. Banners of all four houses were on display on the front wall and the sides of the room were decorated with smaller banners which Harry didn't know.

"What are those?" he asked Ron in a low voice.

"Family banners," Ron explained. "Every pureblood family has one. Do you see the green and silver one with the white rose and the snake? That's the Malfoy banner. On the other side, the red and blue with the ermine and fish, that's ours."

Harry craned his neck. "Is there a Potter banner?"

"Most likely," Ron whispered back as they walked down the aisle to the head table. "But not here. Over there, black with a lily and a pestle, that must be Snape's banner. That one's for you."

"Snape is not a pureblood," Harry pointed out.

Ron snorted. "If what he did in the war didn't earn him the right to have a banner, then I don't know what would have."

Harry nodded, a little sad because his father's banner wasn't in its rightful place. He made a mental note to find out what it looked like and how to get to use it in the future instead of Snape's.

At the front of the hall was a lectern where Snape waited for them. On one side of it sat the teachers, facing the families and friends, and on the other were chairs for the graduates. Snape motioned them to sit down and they obeyed, more nervous than they thought they would be. The exams were over! All they had to do was take their diplomas and shake a few hands!

Harry tried to dry his sweaty hands on the inside of his sleeves. Malfoy, who was sitting beside him made a disapproving noise and shook his head slightly when Harry looked at him. Luckily everybody in the room was looking at Snape who was about to start his speech.

"I'm proud." Snape started his speech with a short statement and paused. "Very proud," he continued after a few seconds.

"This year was the most difficult Hogwarts ever faced and this is not a figure of speech, ladies and gentlemen. Those of you who read 'Hogwarts, a History' are aware that only in 1523 did the castle house more students but back then thrice the number of teachers were available. To be honest, I was not sure we would be able to make it but in a common effort we managed."

Snape paused again.

"Everybody, teachers and students alike, ministry employees and parents, worked together and as a result we made a great step towards rebuilding our society. Today I'm proud to present their diplomas to two years of students. A year ago we lost many in the horrible battle which took place here at Hogwarts."

Sadness showed on the headmaster's face for a moment.

"It would be wrong to think that they can ever be replaced. They can not; but these young witches and wizards who leave Hogwarts today, fully trained, will help to heal the wounds the battle left in our world."

Somebody in the audience blew their nose.

"This year has been an extremely busy one, but also a happy one for me personally. After years of hiding and spying I was finally able to acknowledge the friendship which linked me to Lily Potter and do what she would have expected of me. I was finally able to take care of her son, Harry, who is now also my son by adoption."

Snape turned to smile at Harry. The younger wizard smiled back awkwardly.

"Once again Harry has done me proud. Without him and his peers, Draco Malfoy, Ronald Weasley," Snape continued to name all the eighth years who had taken over lessons, "and last but not least Gregory Goyle, what has been achieved could not have been done." Snape turned to face the eighth years fully and applauded. The assembled families joined the applause proudly.

"Now," Snape said when the applause had died down, "it wouldn't be fair to make our graduates wait any further." He waved his wand a stack of rolls of parchment appeared in front of him. "When I call your name, you will come to me to receive your diploma. Once you got it, we are curious to see your first spell as a fully trained witch or wizard."

"Did you know?" Harry whispered to Malfoy under his breath.

"What?"

"That we had to do magic in front of all those people!"

Malfoy chuckled. "Of course! Everybody knows!"

Harry turned to Hermione. "Did you know?"

The girl looked at Harry as if he had grown whiskers. "Of course! It is mentioned multiple times in 'Hogwarts, a History'."

Harry sighed. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Most people do a transfiguration or a charm," Hermione pointed out. She pointed to the lectern where Hannah Abbott had just received her diploma and conjured a multitude of colourful butterflies which fluttered around her for a moment and then rose to the ceiling where they dissolved in sparkles. The audience clapped politely. Hannah bowed and returned to her seat.

Harry thought frantically what he was going to do as a first spell. If only he had known beforehand! He observed nervously what the others were doing.

Hermione conjured a harp which played a sweet melody before it dissolved into thin air. The audience sighed happily. It took a very powerful spell to make a musical instrument which played from the start.

Neville presented a small bean to the assembled witches and wizards and with a clever spell turned it into a magnificent bunch of colourful flowers. Everybody clapped politely, only his grandmother sobbed happily when the boy left the stage to bring her the flowers and kiss her cheek.

Draco Malfoy turned his school uniform into elegant business robes.

And then it was Harry's turn. He stepped to the lectern to receive his diploma. "You could have told me," he muttered to Snape under his breath.

The older wizard smirked. "You are the Man Who Saved Us All. You could perform Wingardium Leviosa and they would cheer for you," he muttered back at Harry.

Harry grinned back at the other wizard. With a little swish and flick of his wand he levitated Snape about a meter high and left him hover beside the lectern. The headmaster folded his long legs and clasped his arms to his breast; he scowled at the younger wizard. Harry smiled and added a small red fez to the whole picture.

The audience was stunned but applauded enthusiastically when Snape's scowl changed into a broad grin.

Once everybody had their diplomas, the students left the stage to join their families and receive their congratulations and well-wishes. Harry, who had no family, stayed on the stage awkwardly. Normally he would have joined the Weasleys but seeing that they had two graduates among their own children nobody seemed to miss him.

Harry turned around when somebody touched his shoulder gently.

It was Snape. "Congratulations," the headmaster said awkwardly. "I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you," Harry beamed at the man. It was good to have somebody to be proud of and for him.

Snape cleared his throat and then produced a small wooden box from the pocket of his robes. Looking a bit nervous, he handed it to Harry.

"What is this?" asked the younger wizard.

"Your graduation gift. It's traditional."

"You bought me a graduation gift?" Harry was dumbfounded.

Snape shrugged. "Somebody had to," he pointed out.

Harry shook his head. "You didn't have to, but I'm glad you did. Thank you. May I open it?"

The headmaster nodded his consent and Harry opened the box. In it was a small gold signet ring. "It's tradition to wear it on your smallest finger."

Harry put the ring on and looked at the signet closely. He was puzzled. "Shouldn't the signet look like the family banner?" he asked.

"Yes, but although you made quite some progress in potions I thought a pestle was not appropriate for you. And if the Man Who Killed the Evil Git doesn't deserve his own signet then I don't know."

Harry smiled. The new signet was beautiful. It held the lily from Snape's banner but where Snape had the pestle, Harry's signet held a lightning bolt.

"Do I use the same symbols on my banner?" he asked.

Snape nodded. "I thought you'd use Gryffindor red for the background."

Harry beamed at the man. "That's a good idea! Thank you very much!" He bent forward awkwardly and hugged the potions master. First Snape stiffened but after a moment he hugged back.

It took about a half hour before the hall was empty but for a few. The new witches and wizards had left with their families to start their new life with a celebration. Ron had informed Harry and Hermione that tradition required a party or at least a celebratory meal in a nice restaurant.

At last only the Weasley clan and Hermione were left.

"Harry, are you coming, dear?" cried Mrs Weasley. "There's a party at the Burrow."

Harry looked at Snape uncertainly. Being his adoptive father, the headmaster was supposed to organize Harry's celebration.

"Only if Severus can come," Harry replied dutifully.

The headmaster smirked at him. "Harry, Molly and I agreed weeks ago that it would be cruel to make you celebrate apart from your friends." He shooed the new wizard toward the Weasley group playfully.

"My parents are coming, too!" Hermione cried excitedly. "I hope they will like side-along apparition!"

"It's a pity, dear," said Mr Weasley as the group made their way out of the castle, "that the muggle repellent charms cannot be lifted for the parents of muggleborns during the graduation ceremony."

"Those muggle repellent charms were cast by the founders themselves," Snape pointed out. "They are so closely linked to the castle that nobody can be sure the castle wouldn't collapse if they were taken down. It is a pity that muggleborns can't invite their muggle family members, but neither can halfbloods."

"Yes," agreed Molly, "but those have magical relatives, too. It's sad to receive a diploma and have nobody there to be proud of you."

"I know that my parents are very proud of me even if they weren't present at the ceremony," said Hermione.

"This year there were many without family support," sighed Arthur.

"And there will be even more in years to come," Snape pointed out.

Molly nodded sadly. "It's heartbreaking how many were orphaned by that maniac!"

"That's why our orphan projects are so important," Harry pointed out. He looked at Snape shyly. "Not every child is lucky enough to be adopted into a family."

The potions master gaped at the young Gryffindor. "You consider yourself lucky?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes," Harry took Ginny's hand in his as they walked side by side. "First I was angry that you made me give up the Potter name but I've come to realise that although I was supposed to pay a life debt I got a lot out of the arrangement." He stared down at his shoes. "Probably more than you," he whispered awkwardly. "I was rather difficult, I guess."

Snape laughed one of those rich deep laughs Harry liked so much. "I knew what I was getting myself into," he pointed out. "I had dealt with you before. Anyway, you are right. The orphan projects are important. I hope you are willing to help even after you have left Hogwarts."

"Of course," cried Harry and the Weasleys muttered approving comments. "If it wasn't for the projects, I'd come to visit my Dad." He blushed. A quick glance at the potions master revealed a matching blush on the older wizard's face.

The party was merry. The food was excellent. Hermione's parents were thrilled with apparition and their daughter happily took them side-along near the Burrow. The later it got, the merrier the company got. Somebody accused George of having spiked the bowl but he denied having anything to do with it. Why would he do that, he asked, if there was a full-fledged potions master present?

The End.


End file.
